Anything's Possible
by sillycucumber
Summary: Harry knows now what he has to do. He's the only one who can. Everyone helps him out with the fulfilment of the prophecy, but he receives help from last person he would have ever expected, a relative long thought dead. AU DH
1. Chapter 1

Yep, you guessed it, another story! I warn you now though, this story will be long, dramatic and most likely filled with a million spelling and grammatical errors. But I'm really going to try hard to avoid all that this time. It's going to be different and surprising. I hope you enjoy this story, as I really am going to try my hardest to make it my best yet.

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own it. I just like to play in it.

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In abstract, it was just another summer's day in Privet Drive.

The afternoon was warm, but not sweltering as it had been for the past two days. The cool change had finally arrived, bringing with it the energy and animation that the feverish heat had sucked out of the neighbours. The warm rays of sun that were swept across the street with the gentle, afternoon breeze were beckoning people out into their gardens once more. They tended to their Hydrangeas and Box hedges, watered their Pansy's and Primulas and trimmed their lawns until they were perfectly manicured. The laughter or kids down the road playing football out on the deserted street filled the air like trickles of a waterfall falling into the pool below. It was, by all accounts, a very peaceful afternoon, and everyone in their right mind was taking full advantage of it.

All except for one person.

Huddled up in his room of Number Four, Harry Potter lay sprawled out on his back on his small bed with his eyes shut and covered with his arm, his leg and other arm hanging over the edge of the mattress completely limp and his mouth wide open, emitting soft snores of delicate slumber. His tousled hair (which never sat flat anyway) covered his pillow like a spilt ink stain, pitch black as if each single hair really had been dunked in black ink. The bed covers sat piled at his bare feet, his faded t-shirt shoved half way up his torso exposing his belly to the room. He would have looked every bit the normal, lazy teenage slob, if it weren't for the bizarre objects that filled his room.

In his wardrobe hung two pairs of black, school robes, a red Quidditch robe and a black cloak. At the foot of his bed a trunk lay open, filled with loose pieces of parchment, weight scales, a cauldron and a box of potion ingredients and other items amongst a pile of messy, unfolded clothes. Propped up against the wall near the door was a broomstick of the finest quality with the word 'Firebolt' embossed on the handle. There were other little exclusive things as well, like books scattered on the floor with titles such as "Dark Lords throughout history", and "Standard book of spells, Grade seven", and even ones called "The Really Big Book of Cleverly Cunning Plans", "Locating The Unlocatable" and "What To Do When Someone You Know Is Out To Get You".

A breeze floated into the room through the open window, ruffling the papers on the desk underneath it. On this desk was where the most interesting belongings and assorted things sat. The entire desk top was taken up with pieces of parchment, blank sheet of lined, notepad paper, quills (three of them snapped) and two blue, ballpoint pens. On many papers and parchment, harried words had been jotted down in a spiky, male-typical handwriting, as if each word and their meaning were of the utmost importance, and he had been in such a hurry to put them down permanently for fear of them being forgotten. Spells had been recorded, incantations had been drafted, potions had been drafted and many flow charts had been constructed, all with two central words in bold, massive letters in the middle of it all.

**Voldemort – Horcruxes**.

Another breath of wind blew through the window and into the room, this time bringing with it a snowy owl. She circled the room twice in large, graceful turns before pulling up and swooping down to land on Harry's stomach.

Harry jerked and snorted, flinging his arm off his face and blinking away sleep. "Whazzit…? Wha'…' he looked around blurrily, before his eyes focused a little on the pure white blur settled on his stomach. '_Hedwig_?"

Hedwig let out a soft hoot and leant forward to nip on the front of his shirt.

Harry groaned, reached out for his glasses and slipped them back on, bringing the world into sharper focus. "Ah, Hedwig, did you have to? I was dreaming of Liz Hurley!'. He grunted out a laugh as Hedwig screeched and began jumping up and down on his stomach. 'Alright, alright! I get the point!"

He sat up properly with another grunt, letting Hedwig jump up onto his arm. He carried her over to her cage by the window, set her down and stretched up to the ceiling, letting a powerful yawn overtake him momentarily. He hadn't meant to fall asleep like that. He'd only wanted a few minutes rest from staring blankly at his notes; something he'd been spending most of his time doing since arriving back in Surrey.

Rubbing his eyes from the weariness of sleep, he sniffed in the aroma of freshly cut lawn and summer air. It seemed a terrible irony that on one of the most pleasant days of the summer holidays, he could not go out and enjoy it. He looked down at the organized chaos of his notes, and then up at the calendar pinned on his wall.

"July 31st, Hedwig.' He sighed, putting his hands on his hips. 'My last day ever at Number Four, Privet Drive."

And indeed it was. Now that he was seventeen, he was completely of age in the wizarding world, and would now be seen by everyone as a man. He was finally free to do what he wanted, live where he wanted and most importantly of all… use magic whenever he wanted. The fact that it was his birthday at all was struggling against the fact that he could freely use magic for the appraisal and excitement it normally invoked within him.

His stomach rumbled, requesting to be fed. Grabbing his wand from his beside table and pocketing it, he sighed, ruffled the back of hair and padded down stairs barefoot for some food. Normally, he wouldn't have bothered with his Aunt's health food for his birthday, as the knowledge that there would soon be cakes and sweets arriving for his birthday would be enough to sustain him. But he wasn't getting any of that this year, for in just a few short hours he would be over at The Burrow anyway.

He paused in the doorway of the kitchen and looked around. Aunt Petunia was over at the bench with various salads around her, chopping up a lettuce into small shreds with one of her large steel knives she'd ordered from the shopping channel just the week before. Uncle Vernon was seated at the table, his massive face hidden behind a newspaper, and Dudley was half hidden by the refrigerator door as he considered its contents, his gigantic backside poking out like a boulder in the road.

But the moment Harry appeared in the doorway; the three Durselys went eerily still and looked up at him as one, a nervous expression crossing over all their features.

Harry resisted a smirk and flopped down in the chair adjacent to his Uncle. He reached out for a banana from the fruit bowl and slowly peeled it, trying to act as casual as he could. The tension in the air was heavy as it was amusing.

Uncle Vernon cleared his throat and ruffled the paper. "So, you're off today, are you?"

"Yeah, this afternoon." Answered Harry, trying not to reveal his excitement.

"Got all your stuffed packed up?" grunted his uncle.

"No, I'm about to do it though."

"Just be sure you don't go leaving any mess up there,' said Uncle Vernon, taking only a moment to give Harry a threatening look over the top of his paper. 'I don't want Petunia to have to spend hours cleaning up after you."

Harry sighed. "Guess I'd better sweep all the excess cocaine off the floor then."

"You'd better be making some ridiculous joke there, boy!"

"Yes, sir, of course."

Harry had to bite into his bananas to hide his grin. The temptation to rile his relatives up was almost irresistible. He was now allowed to use magic freely at home, and they knew it. And from that moment until the moment he stepped right out of the house for good, they would be walking on eggshells.

"What's that in your pocket?' demanded Aunt Petunia suddenly.

Harry looked down to see the handle of his wand protruding out from his pocket. He looked back up to see the Dursleys all looking at him in great apprehension. "It's a potted plant. I'm considering a career in Horticulture." He said, deadpan.

"Don't you take that tone of voice with your Aunt, boy!' snapped Uncle Vernon, although he seemed less sure of himself as he normally did when he was reprimanding Harry. 'We've been very clear about the rules; none of your…_stuff_ at the table."

Harry just looked at his Uncle with a casual authority. "My wand is staying right here."

Uncle Vernon stared at Harry with bulging eyes, as if he wanted to badly to leap out of his seat and strangle him. But something, most likely the threat that Harry could turn him into an earwig if he wanted, kept him seated. Harry kept calm, knowing full well that he no longer had to tolerate any belittling from these horrid people anymore.

So, with all that in mind, Uncle Vernon simply ruffled the paper and disappeared behind it once more.

Aunt Petunia, however, wasn't normally one to let things go so easily. "And what are you doing wearing that ugly necklace around your neck again?"

Harry clenched his jaw and looked down at the silver trinket hanging around his neck, feeling his heart pound. He ran his thumb over the imprint of a snake on the front. 'It's a locket.' He muttered.

"Call it what you will, it's ghastly.' Said Aunt Petunia, looking at the locket with distaste. 'Look at it! All tarnished and smudged…looks like it's been sitting at the bottom of a lake! Where on earth did you get such a horrid thing?"

Forcing down his anguish, Harry rubbed his chin. "From school."

"Why do you insist on wearing it all the time?"

It was a fair question. Why _did _he insist on wearing it day and night? He wasn't all together sure. Perhaps he wore it to remind himself. To remind him of all that he had lost, and all that he could loose if he didn't stay focused on what it was he had to do. He could fall off the path so easily, and this necklace was like a compass, keeping him on track. Weighing him down with the sense of duty and responsibility, so he didn't loose his head and float off into the expanse of a sometimes overwhelming whirl of thoughts of his assignment.

Aunt Petunia sniffed somewhat pompously. "Well, if you had any sense in jewelry you would throw the horrid thing away. It can't possibly be worth anything. And Diddikums, _please_ shut the fridge and sit down. Your lunch is almost ready."

As if being forced violently into it, Dudley tenderly sat himself down at the table adjacent to Harry, his eyes never wavering from his cousin's emerald ones. "Those frea-…er, I mean, _friends_ of yours aren't coming over again today, are they?" he asked, saying the word 'friend' with so mush strain that one would have mistaken him for being constipated.

"No, Ron's not coming over.' Said Harry, not knowing where Dudley had plucked the courage to look at him in the eye, let alone speak to him. 'And Hermione's in Switzerland with her parents."

Aunt Petunia let out a soft, testy sniff. "Being miles away hasn't stopped your lot from just 'popping' in without any notice at all in the past, now has it?" she bristled irritably. Harry felt sorry for the lettuce she was desecrating with hard, petulant chops.

Harry didn't trust himself to give a mature response, so he simply kept his mouth shut. As they had promised at the end of June, Ron and Hermione had been coming around to Privet Drive as often as they could. With both of them now legally allowed to Apparate (Ron had gotten his license just a few short days into the summer holidays), nothing had stopped them from showing up at the most unexpected times to visit Harry and, by all accounts, be very supportive in a very unnoticeable way. It had been the best summer spent at the Dursleys by far just because of their visits.

"Hermione, yes.' Muttered Uncle Vernon. 'Strange name that."

"It's from Shakespeare, dear.' Said Aunt Petunia. 'I can't quite remember from which play."

"Still, I find it quite convenient how all these… _other_ people have weird names. Take that chap that showed up last year, what was his name? Dumblydorm? Dumberdork?"

Harry felt his gut twist. "Dumbledore." He said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, him! Made that wise crack about my Dudders! And then had the nerve to go and tell us about the way we raised Potter…"

Harry bit into the last remnants of his fruit, trying desperately to ignore his Uncle's ranting. He didn't want to hear such horrible things said about Albus Dumbledore. In fact, he didn't want to think about Dumbledore at all. Not out of disrespect or insolence, but because of the pain even just the name flared within him. It was bad enough that Hermione tried to press him about talking about what was on his mind, or Ron giving him those awkward looks that he used to give just after Sirius had died, or the fact that he couldn't even escape the dreaded final moments in his sleep, without having to listen to Uncle Vernon, a petulant old man with the brain capacity of an intellectually disabled Flubberworm, talk about one of the greatest men in the world in such a derogatory manor.

Without realizing, Harry must have had a very interesting expression on his face, for Dudley arched an eyebrow at him and muttered, "What's wrong with you?"

Harry blinked, thrown by Dudleys first ever sign of concern. "Why would you care?"

"I do care when all my electronic stuff is right upstairs, including my new stereo, and when you tend to blow things into smithereens when you get shirty."

"Relax, Diddykims,' said Harry, getting to his feet. 'Your precious things are safe."

Harry was two steps short of exiting the dining area when his Uncle barked "Hold it! Where the ruddy hell do you think you're going now, boy?"

Harry didn't even bother to turn around, resisting the urge to bang his head against the wall. "To my room." He said, deadpan.

"Oh no you don't! You've still got the breakfast dishes to wash and dry!" said Uncle Vernon, pointing to the stack of dirty dishes by the sink.

"Get Dudley to do it." Said Harry, waving a dismissive hand. He couldn't believe that they had the nerve to ask him to do household chores today of all days. The day he was moving out!

Uncle Vernon hit the table with his fist with a loud BANG and got to his feet. "While you live under this roof you'll pull your weight, Potter! Now do as you're told!"

Harry stared at his Uncle, not bothering to hide his glare. The tension had just increased once more. Dudley was looking at his father and Harry with a hungry expression, as if waiting desperately for his father to give Harry a backhand, and Aunt Petunia was watching with wide eyes, still chopping away at her lettuce until it was becoming nothing but little green pieces of edible confetti. Harry wasn't at all in the mood for this.

He rolled his eyes and pulled his wand out of his pocket. "Alright, fine, have it your way. _Aguamenti_."

Instantly, a jet stream of water shot out of his wand and into the sink, filling it with water. Harry then performed a heating charm to warm the water, a levitation charm to dunk all the dishes one by one into the water and charmed the scrubbing brush to scrub the dishes clean.

In all seriousness, he probably could have just cleaned them all with one simple spell. He also could have said no spell aloud at all (he'd been practicing his non-verbal spells, and was rather good at it now). But, it had been worth it to see the Durselys leap in horror and cry out in fear, their faces drain of colour and Dudley fall out of his chair and onto the floor with an earth-moving THUMP.

With a satisfied smile, Harry turned his back on the hysterical Dursleys and walked out of the kitchen.

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His clothes were folded and stacked on his bed, his spell books were placed in piles on the floor, his broomstick, scales, cauldron and potions box were all laid out in a single file in front of his desk, and his precious notes were all filed away in the folder he had bought for himself, secured safely at the bottom of his open trunk.

Harry rolled his wand between his thumb and forefinger, taking a moment to double and triple check that he had everything. He didn't want to have any excuse to come back to this house ever again if he could help it, and he didn't think his Aunt and Uncle would appreciate it if he left anything 'abnormal' lying about.

Hedwig, who was sitting on top of her cage by the open window, let out a hoot. Harry looked over at her and smiled. "Don't worry, we'll be out of here soon enough.' He waved his wand with a short flick and silently said a spell, making each possession stack itself neatly into his magically expanded trunk. 'My entire life fits into one little trunk. How pathetic am I?"

Hedwig simply let out another hoot.

Harry looked around at her and laughed. "You're not meant to _agree_, feather brain!"

There was a knock at his door, just as Hedwig flapped her wings and flew toward the window.

"Alright, go for a fly. I'll meet you at the Burrow, then.' called Harry after her. He waited until his owl had flown out the window, before crossing to his door and pulling it open.

Aunt Petunia stood there with a stiff posture, her brown handbag wedged primly under her arm. Her blonde hair was pinned up away from her face, making her bony features stand out. As always, there was an authoritive, business-like air about her that reminded Harry suddenly of McGonagall when she was about to deliver a lecture about unruly behaviour. He looked down at her, in the back of his mind finally taking notice of how tall he had become. It was a strange experience to finally be able to look down to his Aunt. In his mind, she'd always been tall as a beanstalk; harsh and strict and sometimes very mean and cold like the evil step-mothers from fairy tales. But, in that moment, he saw her for what she was… just a sour, disapproving woman. Harry wanted to ask her what she wanted, but instead kept his mouth shut, waiting for her to speak first.

Aunt Petunia cast a quick glance over his shoulder to see the magic going on behind him, but if she was offended by it, she didn't show it. "Vernon, Dudley and I are going out. Dudley wants new shorts and shoes."

"Alright then."

"We'll be gone for a few hours, I expect."

Harry nodded and folded his arms over his chest. "I'll be gone by the time you get back."

Aunt Petunia blinked, as if startled by this news. She sniffed and nodded, looking at the architraves of the doorway as if entranced by them. "Very well then. You have all your affairs in order?"

"Just about, yeah."

Another of those uncomfortable, heavy silences filled the space between them. This, Harry mused, was probably the longest civil conversation he and his Aunt had ever had where she wasn't yelling at him, snapping at him, fussing over his disheveled appearance or reprimanding him for something. She was looking at him with sidelong view, and looked as though she were feeling guilty for doing so. Harry saw in her expression an unusual curiosity, as if she couldn't quite believe who it was she was looking at.

The car horn beeped loudly from the driveway outside, causing Aunt Petunia to jump and remember herself. She cleared her throat and fiddled with the top button of her blouse. "Well, I had better get going.' She said softly. She looked at him once more, before nodding. 'Good-bye, Harry."

Harry nodded once. "Bye, Aunt Petunia."

And with that, she left down the stairs and out of sight.

Slowly, Harry shut the door and sat down on his bed just as the last book stacked itself in his trunk. The lid snapped shut, and Harry shrunk the trunk and slipped it into his hip pocket. He leant forward; his elbows on his knees as he listened to the distant sounds of the Durselys car pull out of the driveway and glide off down the street.

And realized that that was the last time he would ever see them.

It seemed a little anti-climactic, really. In his mind, Harry had always imagined his escape from the dreaded house to be a daring, close escape. As a little boy, he'd sometimes envision he real parents showing up one night, claiming that him having to live with his Aunt and Uncle had just been some horrible mistake, and they would then sweep away with him in the night to a large house in the country where his bedroom was the size of the entire Durselys living room. Then, after he began at Hogwarts, he imagined Hagrid showing up in a rage at Harry's treatment, crushing his way through the house to rescue Harry and the two of them flying off together on Sirius old motorbike. He even used to think sometimes that, after his third year, that Sirius would just show up out of the blue and take him to live with him as he had promised.

And even though the reality of this departure was less fascinating, it was still as exciting. It didn't matter how he was going, just as long as he was going!

Harry tilted his head right back and looked up at the crack in the ceiling. While he couldn't wait to get out of there, he couldn't deny that he felt just that little more vulnerable now that Dumbledore's defenses had vanished. And while going to The Burrow and staying with 4 other wizards was better than staying with muggles with no defenses at all, his mind still pressed at him with that old insecurity.

Resolving to cross that bridge when he would no doubt eventually came to it, Harry put his shoes and socks on, and then proceeded the clean his room. A few spells and it was more spotless than Aunt Petunia could have ever hoped to achieve with a simple duster. He then cleaned out Hedwig's cage, wiped the glass panels of the windows and emptied out everything from under the loose floorboard in the floor.

And he was just about to make his bed when the doorbell rang.

Harry straightened up and fingered the locket around his neck, debating for a minute whether or not to answer. He was so close to being out of this house, and getting into a chat with one of the neighbours or another of those pesky door-to-door salesmen would just be a waste of time.

The bell rang again.

With a sigh and a heavenward eye-roll, he pocketed his wand and headed out into the hall. He flew down the stairs two at a time, landing nimbly on the floor. With two quick strides he crossed the entrance hall to the front door and wrenched it open.

And found Lily Potter standing on his doorstep.

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A/N – So, chapter one! What did you think? Grab your interest? Let me know!

Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2!

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Either the room was very dark, or she had gone blind.

Lily blinked rapidly, suppressing a groan as she became more aware of the dull throbbing in her left shoulder. She looked around, trying to gauge an idea aboutwhere she was. She definitely wasn't standing on the doorstep of her sister's house anymore. As her eyes adjusted, she could see sharp outlines of furniture. _Old _furniture. Peeling wallpaper, dusty walls… from what she could tell, this was one manky old room. She was lying flat on her back on a rather lumpy mattress, and wasn't all together sure how she had ended up like this. The last thing she remembered was Harry opening the door.

_Harry_.

Alarm bells went off in her head. She had to find Harry. She had to explain what was going on…to make him understand…

She wrenched herself forward in an attempt to get up and go find Harry, not caring that she was in some unknown room God-knows where. She would run through the streets of London if she had to to find him. She had to talk to him. She had to explain.

But she didn't even get into the sitting position, for she found herself tied down to the bed.

Lily frowned and looked down at herself. She tried kicking out with her feet, but her ankles were strapped to the bedposts. She looked up above her head to see her wrists equally tied up with ropes. She was, by all accounts, unable to move.

"What the hell…?" she muttered, wriggling around.

Then a low voice to her left said, "I wouldn't bother if I were you."

Lily looked around to see a silhouette sitting beside her bed. She squinted, trying to identify who it was, before a bright light appeared at the end of a wand, illuminating the face and upper torso of her son.

She wasn't all together surprised, now that she thought about it. On her way over to see him, she had known that there were only two ways he was going to take to seeing her out of the blue: he would either embrace her in love and acceptance, or attack her in denial and anger.

Unfortunately for her, he had taken the latter.

He was just watching her, and probably had been for a long time while she had been out. His expression was blank for the most part, but every few seconds she thought she saw something like hurt and anger in his eyes. Now that she could look at him properly, she noticed certain things about him. He looked oddly burdened, as if he'd been through far more than any teenager ever had or should. His jaw was tinted grey with his fresh stubble coming through, and his glasses threw black lines of shadows up his forehead, as if he were constantly frowning. It was an odd experience to see him so grown up. The last thing she remembered of him was changing another of his diapers, while listening to his high-pitched giggles as she blew playfully on his chubby tummy... and yet here he was before her now, just departing from his puberty years. She felt almost ill with the emotion of sadness, knowingthat she had missed the sublte changes of time -but didn't let it show.

She tried to roll over so she could face him properly, but couldn't manage it. She sighed and looked up at the ceiling, a little frustrated at being so restrained. "I know what you're thinking."

"The hell you do." He said shortly.

"And I can try and explain it to you if you let me."

Harry broodingly folded his arms over his chest, his wand clutched very tightly in his hand. "The only explanation I want you hear out of your mouth, is what the hell you thought you were going to get away with by donning this appearance."

Lily looked around at him. "I beg your pardon?"

A cold, bitter smile crossed over his face. "Oh yeah, you heard me. My good old buddy Voldemort must really be getting a bit senile in his old age if he thought that _this_' he said, waving a hand at her, 'would fool me."

She didn't filch at the name like he had expected. The only people he had ever met thathadn't were Sirius, Remus and Dumbledore. Even Snape and most of the Death Eaters flinched, if not had at least some sort ofreaction at the name.

"You think I'm a Death Eater?"

"Well, you'll have to excuse my appalling manners, but my dead mother showing up on my doorstep after sixteen years to be does tend to spike a little suspicion." Sneered Harry.

Lily sighed. "I knew you'd react like this."

Harry ignored her. "Tell me who you are now, and I just might not loose my head completely."

"I think it's pretty obvious who I am."

"Look, as fascinating as this conversation is, you might be interested to know that my patience ran out the second I opened the front door to find you standing there. I have far more important things to be going on with right now than putting up with you and all this shite. Now, I'm going to ask you again nicely,' he leant forward, his emerald eyes blazing with anger and the reflection of the light from his wand. 'who the sodding hell are you?"

Without meaning to, Lily recoiled. His expression had a fierce determination about it that was mature beyond his physical years. His eyes were bright, like cat eyes looking upon its prey. He was angry, hurt, confused and upset, and he wasn't afraid to use his emotions to his advantage. He was intimidating without meaning to be. Was this how his enemies saw him?

Gathering her wits up about her again, she looked right back at him, refusing to be discouraged by her own son. "Lily Potter."

Harry scowled. "Tell me who you are."

"Lily Potter."

"_Who are you_?"

"Lily Potter."

Feeling extremely irritated, Harry stood up quickly, sending his chair crashing to the floor and pointed his wand at her, his chest heaving with suppressed anger. But he didn't hex her. He just stood there, pointing his wand at her face as she looked him right back. She thought he was going to snap at her again, but instead a sort of strange calm swept over him like the eye of a storm.

He cocked his head to the side and looked at her with a vague curiosity. "Who are you really, I wonder.' He muttered. 'Are you Bellatrix under all that? Maybe Malfoy's mother, Narcissa. I can't image them sending a _man_ to do this – that'd be disturbing."

"I'm not a Death Eater, Harry!"

"And I'm not mortally afraid of Guinea Pigs." He said flatly.

Lily quirked an amber eyebrow. "_Guinea Pigs_?"

Harry faltered, and even in the dim light she was sure she could see him blush in embarrassment.

Recovering, he sighed impatiently and glared at her. "You can bet your meaningless life that I will soon discover the meaning of all this, as well as your real identity. Regardless if you tell me willingly or not. Now, I don't care how long it takes, because I can keep you tied up in here for a very, _very_ long time, and there won't be a damn thing you can do about it."

Lily pursed her lips. "Your stubbornness and unwillingness to listen to what I have to say is what's going to keep me locked up in here.' She retorted. She sighed and looked up at the ceiling. 'You're as hard-headed and determined as your father was… and it's just as infuriating."

"Don't you talk about him.' Snapped Harry angrily. 'Don't you even mention his _name_."

Lily looked back around at him, feeling wretched that she was upsetting him. He looked furious and hurt at the same time, and the mothering instinct in her tugged at her, wanting to reach out and comfort him. But it was quite evident that she could not just jump right back into his life like she so desperately wanted to. She would have to be patient and smart, and play herself right. It was not going to be easy to convince him of who she really was, but she would do it. She would wait.

After a few more minutes of steeling silence in which Harry just sat there like a statue, glaring at the woman on the bed in front of him, he got to his feet.

"I'm going down stairs. I'm going to give you some time to think about your situation andhow much telling the truth would benefit you. Now, this room has wards around it, so don't even think about apparating out unless you want to show up to your master missing two legs and an arm.' He said flatly.

Lily smiled. "As if I'd apparate with a bed attached to me anyway."

He clenched his jaw, gave her one last look of contempt, turned on his heel and headed toward the door.

Lily watched him stride the length of the room, before calling after him, 'Harry… Happy Birthday."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. He turned his head a little, as if wanting to turn around, but seemed to think better of it as he stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

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Harry threw the door to the bathroom open quickly enough to be able to stumble toward the toilet, lift the lid and vomit up his anguish, mortification and disgust into the bowl. He leant heavily against the porcelain basin as he coughed and spluttered, the foul-smelling bile emptying from him, taking with him the ill-feelings of his stomach and heart.

After a few more minutes of this, his body could not take the abuse any longer. Shaking, he wiped his mouth, flushed the contents down the drain and sat down heavily on the tiles, leaning his back against the wall and closing his eyes. He took in slow, deep breaths, trying desperately to keep a steady head.

It wasn't the first time he'd vomited that day. He'd pretty much ruined the Dursley's basin back in Surrey. When he'd finally gathered some wits about him after seeing his dead mother standing there on the doorstep of Number Four, he'd reacted completely on instinct.

He'd grabbed his wand out and stunned her.

Everything after that was still a bit of a blur. He remembered dragging her unconscious form into the house and laying her down on the couch, wondering what she was doing there and how. People most certainly did not have their dead parents after fifteen years just showing up on their birthday. He knew instantly that shecouldn't bewho she looked like she was. It just wasn't possible. It went against everything he'd ever been taught. People didn't just come back from the dead, no matter how badly one wished for it. She had to be a Death Eater, sent by the mother of all skitzo's himself as a sick, twisted birthday present. As a sign to say that although the past year had been quiet of personal attacks, he had not forgotten about Harry. But, surely Voldemort didn't think that Harry would seriously think that this woman was his mother! He most certainly was not _that_ gullible. What was there to gain by sending her to him?

Harry's initial thought had been that reason was so she could get information on him. Which had left him with another problem – what to do with her now. He couldn't leave her locked up in the cupboard under the stairs or Number Four, totally unconscious. That would be like lathering his relatives up with blood and dipping them into a shark tank on the end of a rope like fleshy teabags. And he certainly couldn't take her to the Burrow. How would that have looked, showing up with the unconscious form of your supposedly dead mother cradled in your arms? He'd had no-where to take her but the Ministry.

And then another thought had come to him.

He had been very reluctant to return to Grimmauld Place, but it was the only other option. No-one would be there anymore, and he could keep her there without anyone being any the wiser about it. She wouldn't know where she was and therefore couldn't alert any other Death Eaters in close proximity, and even if she could they would never find it. Only Harry and the Order knew how to get there now adays.

Letting out a slow breath, Harry opened his eyes and looked down at his worn old sneakers. In reality, he knew he should have turned her into the Ministry the moment he'd hexed her. Maybe it was his animosity and resentment towards the Ministry as of late, but he didn't want anyone to even know about her.

Anyone.

Besides, he didn't need everyone hanging around, trying to help him figure out who she was. He was capable of doing it without uncertain advice and cautious guidance. He was a man now…he didn't need assistance with something so trivial…

But what he _did_ need, he suddenly realized, was to get the hell out of this house.

Rising to his feet, Harry left the bathroom and headed downstairs toward the kitchens. He felt no desire to make himself lunch…he'd only throw it up again anyway. And he knew that going where he was going would most likely throw him head-first into an all-you-can-lay-your-hands-on-and-eat buffet, but he didn't care. He was going.

Striding across the large, empty room toward the fireplace, Harry grabbed a pinch full of Floo Powder from the pot on the mantel, stepped inside, threw the powder down and shouted "The Burrow!"

In no time at all, he had left the dizzying world of whirling fireplaces and stepped out into the living room of the Burrow; his second favorite place in the entire world.

Mrs. Weasley was sitting on the sofa, a magazine flopped open in her lap as she sat reclined with her feet up, but she jumped up as if the cushions beneath her had bitten her at the sight of Harry.

"Harry! Merlin's beard, you scared me!"

Harry smiled happily for the first time that day as she leapt up off the sofa and threw her arms around him. "Sorry, Mrs. Weasley. I hope I'm not interrupting your 'strenuous' afternoon."

Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Not at all, dear, not at all! And Happy Birthday, sweetheart! Have you had a good morning?"

"Oh, er…sure." he muttered, dusting the soot off his shirt so he wouldn't have to lie to her face.

"Oh yes, I can most certainly imagine. Those horrid muggles you live with.' Bristled Mrs. Weasley, dusting the soot Harry had missed off his shoulders and back.

"_Used_ to live with." Corrected Harry.

"Well, that's hardly the point, now is it? I know Arthur would have a few firm words to say if he ever heard me talking about muggles in such a manner, but those relatives of yours most certainly have a lot to answer for."

Harry smiled, amusing himself with an image of Mrs. Weasley telling off Uncle Vernon as if he were one of the twins having just blown up the stove in the kitchen.

"Well, it's no matter now.' Said Mrs. Weasley, smiling up at Harry. 'It's just good to have you here, dear. Now, where are all your things?"

"In my pocket."

"Good, good. Well, I told the twins to clean out their room, so you can have that all to yourself. But I must warn you, I think they've still got a few contraptions hiddenin there from when they were younger – things I never seem to be able to fully clean out, it seems. So, you just tell me if anything starts whistling, passes wind or spontaneously combusts on you during the night, alright?

Harry nodded, but otherwise didn't respond in fear he would betray his disappointment. After everything that had happened that morning, he couldn't stay at the Burrow anymore. Not until all this mess with the Death Eater had been sorted out. He would have to stay at Grimmauld Place to watch over her, and make sure she didn't do anything dodgy or escape. But, how was he going to break all this to Mrs. Weasley? It seemed incredible that only just that morning he'd been all ready to move into the Burrow completely, once and for all.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

Harry blinked and looked down at Mrs. Weasley's expression of concern. "Sorry?"

"You're looking a little peaky, dear. Are you feeling okay?' she placed the back of her hand on Harry's forehead, even though he tried to avoid her. She wasn't offended; all of her children had done that in the past. 'Do you need to sit down?"

"No, I'm right. Thank you."

"Are you sure? You're a little green."

"I'm fine, honestly."

"Well, would you like something to eat?"

"No!' he shouted. But he smiled and laughed. 'I mean… no thank you."

Mrs. Weasley looked at him with an expression that he knew meant that she didn't believe him for one second. But, thankfully, she dropped the subject and led him into the kitchen by the arm.

Harry let her sit him down at the bench. He took the moment of silence as an opportunityto take another look around the kitchen. After all these years, everything about this house still fascinated him. He loved how all over the place it was, how nothing really had a place and how there wasn't a straight line in it. It was as boisterous, uncontained, open and gregarious as the people that lived within it. Its walls contained within it the joy and happiness that seemed to reverberate from each member of the Weasley family, and once you stepped over the threshold of the house you couldn't help but be soaked in it. It was the complete opposite of Number Four, Privet Drive in practically ever way possible. That was part of the reason why Harry loved it so much; it was a sort of physical rebellion against everything Aunt Petunia had ever stood for.

Oh, how badly he wanted to live there permanently…

"I would have had a party all set up for you, you know, Harry,' said Mrs. Weasley, pulling some sandwich fixings out of the cupboard. 'But Arthur won't be able to make it home tonight, and Bill and Fleur…well, they tend to spend a lot more time away together lately. And I didn't want to have a party without them, or Hermione for that matter."

Harry smiled. "That's alright. I didn't expect a party anyway."

"Its not like we're not going to have one for you!' cried Mrs. Weasley, summoning bread with her wand. 'Heavens, we're not _that_ horrible! Becoming of age is a big deal!"

"I know it is." He said.

He sat and watched, feeling some of his worries drift away as he listened to the steady thump of something coming from upstairs. He looked up, listening in, before finally identifying the beat as music. _Loud_ music.

"Harry, dear, you don't have to sit here with me.' laughed Mrs. Weasley. 'Why don't you go upstairs and see Ron? He's in his room."

"Thanks, I might just do that."

Putting the salt shaker down he had been fiddling with, he slipped out of the kitchen and went up the two flights of stairs toward Ron's room. The music was definitely louder now that he was closer, and the floor vibrated under his feet with the short, rhythmic thumps of the bass. Had Ron gotten a new radio over the summer?

But, halfway down the hall, Harry stopped out the front of a door on his right, feeling his insides twist again.

Ginny's room.

He reached out, running his fingertips against the cool grain of the wooden door. It too was vibrating with the music, and he now knew that Ron wasn't the one with the loud taste. He so badly wanted to knock on her door and see her. He'd only written to her a few times over the summer, unsure whether or not she would even want to respond. But she had, and although everything seemed a little okay between them…he still wasn't sure.

So, with a great effort, he pulled his hand away from the door and walked up to the end of the hall to where Ron's room was.

It took a moment for Ron to stick his head out into the hall when Harry knocked. The red head grinned widely, molding his freckles together and opened the door completely. "Quick, get in here."

Harry's eyes widened in surpriseas Ron grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him inside hard, slamming the door behind them and shutting out the noise of Ginny's music. Harry rubbed his chest and straightened up as Ron rolled his eyes and went over to the window.

"Er, care to explain the reason for your Russian Mafia tenderness?" asked Harry.

"Ginny's music. Dad picked up one of those muggle radio's with the disc thingies that go with it and gave it to her. It's been driving me barmy all week!' cried Ron, throwing his window shutters wide open and letting in the warm summer breeze. 'Not that I'm saying she has bad taste in muggle music and all, cause most of its pretty good. But it's just a bit monotonous, know what I mean?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I do. Dudley got this new CD the other week, and he's had it on permanent play-back ever since. So, if you ever want to know all the words to 'Getting' jiggy wit it', you just owl me."

Ron snorted. "I reckon I'll pass on that one.' He reached out and shook Harry's hand warmly. 'Good to have you here though, finally."

"Yeah, it's good to finally be here, I can tell you now!"

"I would have come down to greet you, but I didn't hear you arrive on account of _SOMEONE'S MUSIC BEING TOO BLOODY LOUD_!" he shouted at the door.

Harry snorted. "That's alright."

Ron smiled, but looked at Harry with caution. 'Did you er…talk to Ginny?"

Harry paused, before sighing and sitting down at Ron's desk. "No. I was going to, but…' he trailed off, feeling that headache coming back.

Ron cleared his throat and ruffled his hair from the back. "So, you're moving in finally! Only took you six years."

"Shut up, wanker! I would have been here earlier if I could have managed it, and you know it."

"Of all the school rules you've broken in the past, all the classes you've walked out on and all the times you've left school on some heroic rescue, you couldn't ever just get on your broom and fly over here whenever the hell you wanted?" asked Ron, arching an eyebrow.

Harry glared at him in amusement. "You know, you're absoloutelyright; why would I stay in Surrey and get abused when I can come here and get abused?"

Ron smiled. "Too right."

Harry relaxed into the seat, feeling very much at ease now that he was with Ron. But, grateful as he felt that he was now at The Burrow, he couldn't help but feel a curious pang of guilt that he was out having a good old social chat with his best mate, while that Death Eater was stuck in Grimmauld Place, tied to a bed.

"So, er…' said Harry, trying to think about something else. 'Where is everyone?"

"Well, Ginny's in her room as you know, Mum's downstairs as you also know, Charlie's gone back to Romania for the weekend to oversee some new arrivals, Fred and George are at work, Dad's at work, couldn't care less where Percy is or who's arse he's kissing now, and Bill and Fleur are wherever they go when mum boots them out."

Harry snorted. "Why does your mum boot them out?"

"Well, there's a story to that."

"Just skip ahead to the epilogue."

Ron smiled and flopped down on his bed. "Well, basically, mum got sick and tired of walking in on one of Bill and Fleur's many recent snog sessions, so she told them…how did she put it… 'I'll not tolerate this any longer, William Arthur Weasley! You and your _lovely_ fiancé can go find somewhere else to liaison from now on instead of hiding in my broom cupboards!'" said Ron, adopting a high-pitched voice in impersonation of his mother.

Harry laughed. "Fair enough then."

"They're like newlyweds, even though they aren't married yet!' cringed Ron. 'It's disgusting."

"It's only disgusting because you don't have Lav-Lav to do all that with anymore."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, right."

Harry leant forward on his knees and looked at Ron as Ron looked out the window at the blue afternoon sky. He looked to have grown a little over the summer if that was even possible. The last remnants of his boyish looks were finally disappearing, giving way to sharp features and a more dignified appearance. And either he was going for a new look, or had simply forgotten to shave, for there was a copped shadow spread across his jaw and down his neck to just below his Adam's apple.

Ron looked around at Harry, apparently wanting to say something, but he frowned and looked at Harry in an inquisitive manner. "You alright?"

"What?"

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Of course I am, why?"

"You just look a little peaky, is all."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Shut your gob, yeah? That's a good man."

Ron laughed and got to his feet. "Alright, I can take a hint. Now, where's your stuff? Mum'll have kittens if I don't get you settled into Fred and George's room as soon as magically possible."

Harry cleared this throat awkwardly. "Actually…I have to talk to you about that."

Ron's grin faltered. "What is it?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer several times, but he just couldn't get it out right. What was he meant to say, anyway? 'Oh, I'm sorry, but I cant come and live with you like I've wanted to since I was twelve years old, because I have to take care of the Death Eater who looks like my dead mother I'm holding prisoner in my dead Godfather's childhood home'?

His life was seriously screwed up.

Ron sat back down heavily, a sad smile crossing over his face. "You're not moving in, are you?" It wasn't a question.

Harry sighed. "Its not that I don't want to, it's just…' He trailed off, feeling his stomach churn again and his temples throb.

"It's just what?" pressed Ron.

"It's just…' he sighed, getting to his feet. 'Have you ever had your life going perfect one minute, and then it just goes completely to shite the next minute, and there's no way you can possibly get out of it without sacrificing what it is you really want?"

"No, I haven't.' smiled Ron. 'I'm not Harry Potter."

Harry looked at him for a moment, before letting out a relieved laugh with a shake of his head. "You're lucky, mate."

"So, are you going to tell me why, or are you just going to leave me hanging?"

"Again, its not that I don't want to…'

"It's just that you can't, because it's a matter of the utmost importance and its better for my own safety if I don't know all the messy,overly-dramaticdetails.' Finished Ron in a monotone, getting to his feet once more. 'You know, I think I saw a muggle film like that once."

Harry smiled, knowing that Ron wouldn't push the issue any further. And not just because he was like his mother enough to know whennot tointerfere, but because he was that good of a friend, and that he knew Harry well enough to know that Harry wouldn't withhold anything from him if he didn't have a good enough reason.

"Look, I'd better get going.' Said Harry, looking at his watch. 'I don't know how I'm going to break this news to your mother though."

Ron snorted and clapped Harry on the shoulder, opening the door for him. "Don't worry, I'll handle her."

"You will? _Willingly_?"

"Sure thing! All it takes is a bottle of whiskey and a very large glass and she'd be so happily off in La-La land she'd very willingly hug your Aunt Petunia!"

* * *

A/N – I know we didn't see much of Lily, but I can't imagine Harry spending too much time with her after just capturing her. I think he'd be a little freaked, don't you? And the song, 'Getting' Jiggy Wit It' is by Will Smith. Come on, cant you just see Dudley getting' jiggy wit it? Shakin' dat ass!

Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3!

* * *

The room was deadly quiet as he watched her sleep. The floorboards didn't creek under the feet of his chair, the mattress didn't squeak as she shifted in her slumber, and even her breathing seemed mute. It seemed ironic that someone who could cause such mayhem in their everyday occupation could sleep so peacefully. 

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there. An hour, a minute, a day…time seemed to have stopped within the four walls of this room. But it did give him a good opportunity to mull things over. To make considerations, examinations and judgments about her and the whole situation she brought with her. He needed to be smart about this. The only way he was going to get any information out of her was not by her telling him anything or outright confessing, but by being watchful and observant. Only a slip of the tongue would expose her, and he would have to figure out a way to make that work to his advantage.

Harry ruffled his hair, wondering when the exact moment in his life it was he had become so ruthless and cunning. But this was a war, and one did not survive war without being so.

_No wonder the Sorting Hat wanted me in Slytherin_. He mused solemnly.

She shifted again, mumbled something incoherent and went silent once more. Harry folded his arms over his chest, taking a good look at her.

It was very interesting to take in all of the finer details of her appearance. Her nose was small and straight like his, just like his mothers. Her deep red hair, splashed over the pillow like a blood stain, was just like his mothers. Her hands with their long, elegant fingers were just like his mothers. Her eyes, the same shade as his, her cheekbones, her dimples…all exactly like his mothers. Everything was near identical; and he would know.

How long had he gazed up at her in the Mirror of Erised? Watched the way she smiled, and the way she laughed, and the way her mouth moved when she spoke. And then, a year later when he was only in his second year, Harry had worked up a routine where he would take one of the pictures from his album in the dead of night and blow it up life-size, so he could get a good look at his parents faces. He had stared at them for hours, taking in the details of their faces, etching every line and ever blemish into his memory. He knew their faces as well as the back of his hand and it was eerie, almost disturbingly so, that whoever had made her look like this had gotten her so right.

But, the curious thing about her was that she didn't look as young as she was when she died. There were lines of age on her face and hands, and if he didn't know better, he would have guessed her to be in her late thirties, which was the age his mother would have been had she been alive. Her clothes weren't from the early 80's era, but were modern and sharp. Her hairstyle wasn't the ones he knew from his album either.

But the one thing that he noticed more than anything was that she was not wearing a wedding ring.

"Mmmm…Harry…' she mumbled again, and her eyes fluttered open.

Harry sat stock-still as she blinked away the fog of drowsiness, looked around and finally landed her gaze on him. Her cheeks were flushed from sleep and her eyes were a little red.

She licked her lips and shifted against her binds. "Oh, hello."

"You sleep well?" he asked flatly.

"Mmm, as well as can be expected when you're tied up.' She smiled, stretching her back a little. 'How about you?"

Harry ignored her attempts to strike up pleasant conversation. "Are you ready to talk to me now?"

Lily yawned. "Are you ready to listen?"

"Don't get smart with me. You're in no position to be cracking jokes. I'll be the one asking the questions here, do I make myself clear?" he sneered, giving her a glare.

Lily sighed, looking almost bored. "Inescapably."

"Good.' Said Harry, feeling satisfied. 'Now, lets not beat around the bush anymore than we already have; why did Voldemort send you?"

"Voldemort didn't send me."

"Then who did?"

"No-one sent me, Harry. I came to you by my own violation."

Harry exhaled slowly, trying to keep a hold on his temper. He hadn't really expected her to be honest with him willingly right from the get go. He knew that just asking one simple question would not be enough to get her to spill all her secrets and plans and agendas with him, but it would certainly have been nice.

But then, when were Death Eaters ever _nice_?

"Alright then, let's try it this way,' he said, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. 'Who did send you if it wasn't Voldemort? Was it one of the other minions? Malfoy? Macnair? Lestrange?"

Lily looked up at him with a surprised frown. "How do you know the names of all these Death Eaters?"

"Oh, I don't know,' he said. 'Maybe because they've only tried to kill me a few million times in the past. Not to mention how they all scream angrily at each other after they miss trying to kill me."

"Kill you?' she asked quickly. 'Have you been hurt badly by them?"

"Like you'd care."

"I do care! Very much so!"

"Only because you're missing out on the chance to kill me at this very moment.' Snapped Harry. 'Now, I'll ask one more time – who sent you?"

Lily looked at him for a moment, before she snorted with laughter.

Harry frowned at her, not at all amused. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing! You just sounded like that old wench from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, is all.' She giggled, shuddering with laughter.

Harry's eyes narrowed behind his round-framed glasses as he watched her giggle, his amusement not at all matching hers. How was it that someone in her position could make jokes? There wasn't anything funny about her situation. Did she think that playing silly games would get her out of there any quicker? It was almost as if she didn't have anywhere else to be but with him, locked up in his house, tied to a dusty old bed in an even dustier old room.

Lily let out one final, happy sigh and looked up at him. "Don't frown so much, Harry. You'll get wrinkles."

Harry clasped his hands together tightly, the tips of his fingers going red with the force of his grip. "I'm glad you're having fun.' He said, deadpan.

"Aren't you?" she laughed.

"You think sitting here for hours on end, watching you to make sure you don't get out and torment the nearest muggle while trying to question you incessantly about your intentions is my idea of a _good time_?" snapped Harry.

Lily tried to sit up again, but let out an irritated cry as she found herself just as securely tied up as she had been the last time she checked. "We could save ourselves both a massive amount of energy and time if you would just let me sit up and explain."

It was Harry's turn to smirk. "What, you can't lie down _and_ talk? And here I was thinking women could multi-task."

"Dry sarcasm? I like it." She giggled.

Harry smiled…then frowned. What the hell had just happened? Had he just exchanged a playful banter with her? Her – a _Death Eater_? A Death Eater who would kill him, given the first chance available to her? He thumped himself mentally, forcing himself to get a grip and remember who this person really was. A civil conversation was not something he should be having with her.

"Let's come back to that question later, then.' He said with the air of a game show host. 'How about you tell me who you are under all that make-up."

Lily rolled her eyes. "What's the point? You won't believe me anyway."

"For the love of God, just tell me so we can both get on with our lives."

She frowned and flopped back down against the mattress. "Fine. My name is Lillian Paige Potter. I was born in 1960 in a small hospital in London. I grew up in one of the many suburbs of Bath with my mother and father and older sister, Petunia. When I was eleven, I got my first letter from Hogwarts telling me that I wasn't an ordinary muggle girl like I thought, but in fact a witch. I was in Gryffindor, was a prefect in my fifth year and Head Girl in my seventh along with your berk of a father, James Potter. I graduated with honors in 1978, got married a few months after that and had you in the wee hours of the morning on July 31st, 1980. We lived in a gorgeous house in Godric's Hollow until that horrible night on Hallowe'en when he…' she stopped and looked away. 'When he killed your father."

Harry blinked and slowly let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. She'd rolled all that off her tongue without pausing, right up until she'd reached the part about the night his parents had died. She had said it without any hesitation or momentary pause to clarify the facts before saying them. As if she really had experienced it all. As if it really were all her past…

Harry smiled bitterly. "That was very good. Very convincing."

"That's because it's the _truth_, Harry."

"You must have spent ages rehearsing that."

"How the bloody hell could I rehearse all that so well? Or remember it for that matter!" she snapped.

"Probably the same way any Death Eater or evil overlord or politician remembers their monologue."

Lily pursed her lips. "Would it make you feel better for me just to confess that I'm a Death Eater whose sole purpose in life is to stalk, capture, torture and annoy a half-blind seventeen year old boy?"

"I said Death Eater, not Voldemort himself."

"I don't think you really know who I am, do you?"

"I know you're a Death Eater – I just don't know which one."

"Well, I'm not going to lie to you just so you can hear what you want to hear.' She said in a final tone. 'So, you're just going to have to 'figure it all out' yourself, because I'm not going to tell you anything but the truth."

Harry ground his teeth together, seething. She was like an unpredictable wind torrent. She blew one way one moment, and then swung completely the other way the next without any warning. One minute she was giggling and making sarcastic remarks, and the next she was being indignant and stubborn. It confirmed Harry's theory that this was a female Death Eater, because no male could carry off a woman's insane mood-swings that well. At least that narrowed down his options, which was progress if nothing else.

Harry scratched his chin, pondering his next move. The more he pushed, the more she withdrew. She was going to stick to this story of her really being Lily Potter, even if he threatened her until he was blue in the face. He had to work out a way to get her to talk, which was not going to be easy. After all, keeping someone hostage and demanding answers from them wasn't something he had a lot of previous experience in.

He got to his feet, aware of her eyes on him. He couldn't work all this out with her in the same room. She was far too distracting, even when she didn't say anything.

_Especially_ when she didn't say anything.

"I'm going downstairs." He muttered.

And then he left, leaving her alone once more.

------------

_Seventy-eight, seventy-nine, eighty, eighty-one… _

Lily yawned again for the tenth time that minute as she counted the cracks in the roof that loomed above her. The room was lit up better than it had been all day, thanks to the yellow tinge of the afternoon sun that creeped in through the grimy windowpanes. Unable to twist her wrist around enough to look at the time on her watch, she had resorted to using the sun to tell the time of day.

In the time that Harry had left, she'd thought about many things – mostly about how best to convince him of her honestly and true identity. She understood his denial; if she were in his position, she knew she'd be as adamant as he was being now. But it didn't help alleviate her annoyance at her situation. How was she meant to prove herself to him tied down to this ruddy bed? There was no way he was going to give her a wand, nor would he let her go and see where she led him. She would have to rely on him questioning her more and taking the opportunity to prove herself through her knowledge.

_Eighty-eight, eighty-nine, ninety, ninety-one… _

Aside from her discomfort and frustration, she couldn't help but feel a burning pride for him. He had grown up wonderfully into a competent, independent young man, quite capable to hold his own. He was smart, quick-witted, sharp, confident, and most certainly didn't take any crap from anybody. He had an air of authority about him; something eye-catching that made you want to sit up and listen to what he had to say. He reminded her somewhat of a diplomat.

And in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but wonder who had brought out such outstanding qualities in him. Who had molded him into this awesome young man? Who had been his mentor growing up? It interested her immensely, and she made it her new mission to find out the answer to this and many other questions she had about him.

_Ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-eight… _

The door to the bedroom creaked open, and Lily looked around to see Harry enter carrying a tray bearing two ham sandwiches and a pitcher of juice on it.

She smiled and felt her stomach growl. She was very hungry indeed. "I didn't think you'd come back for another few hours, like yesterday."

"I, er…thought you might want some food.' He muttered, kicking the door closed behind him. 'I don't know when it was you last ate."

"A day and a half, I reckon." She said, eyeing the tray hungrily.

Harry placed the tray on the bedside table and sat himself down in his seat by the bed. "I don't know the normal culinary delicacies for Death Eaters, so it's either a ham sandwich or bugger all."

"I think I'd eat Bubotuber puss at this point." She groaned, trying to sit up.

Apparently his good feelings of hospitality only went so far, for he didn't free her hands or allow her to sit up so she could eat. Instead, he took a quarter triangle of the sandwich from the tray and placed it in front of her mouth for her to take a bite.

Lily frowned. "You know, I could do it perfectly fine myself if you would just free my…'

"Just eat it." He said flatly.

She pursed her lips and frowned in a moment's stubborn hesitation, before opening her mouth and taking a bite. The bread, ham and tangy taste of chutney made her salivate so much it hurt. It was heaven for her taste buds, and her stomach continued to growl loudly in eager anticipation.

The two of them sat in silence after that with Harry feeding her sandwiches almost methodically. She caught glimpses of his expression every few moments, always to see him carefully guarded against her probing gaze. It was interesting how he could be so emotional, yet so well guarded. He must have spent years perfecting it, and it would probably make him a good liar in a tight situation.

Harry fed her the last bite of the final sandwich and dusted off his hands. "You want some juice?"

"Is it orange?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of all the Death Eaters I could have gotten suck with, it had to be the one with a particular taste in juices."

Lily smiled as he poured her her drink. "Well, no-one said life was fair. And if you knew your own mother well enough, you'd know that I won't drink anything but orange."

"I know my mother well enough.' He said defensively, his eyes narrowing.

With a shaky hand, Harry brought the glass up to her lips awaiting her to be ready. It was rather difficult to drink and swallow while one was lying down, but she was insanely thirsty and didn't care if she choked in the process. She sat up to the best of her ability, her muscles groaning in protest, and took in a massive gulp of freshly squeezed orange juice.

But, in her haste, she coughed and knocked the glass forward, causing Harry to tip a few dribbles of juice onto her top.

"Oh, sorry." He muttered, putting the glass aside. He grabbed a serviette and wiped her front.

Lily just watched him as he did so, taking the care with her that he would take with a baby being fed. "No, that's alright. I drank too fast."

Harry looked at her face with that open expression once more, reaching up to wipe the excess juice softly from her chin. He did it slowly, with careful soft strokes as if afraid he'd hurt her. She didn't flinch at the contact at all, actually pleased about it. His eyes never left hers the entire time, even after he almost reluctantly pulled away.

"Oi, Harry! You here?' boomed a voice from downstairs.

Startled, Harry and Lily both jumped out of their trance. Harry looked around at the door, looking as confused as Lily felt. The man's voice was an unknown to her, but she could tell that Harry knew who it was.

"Who's that?" she asked, looking up at him.

Harry frowned, ignoring her as heavy footfalls approached, possibly even two sets of feet if she wasn't mistaken.

"Are you expecting people?" she asked again.

Getting to his feet, Harry scrunched up the serviette and tossed it back on the tray. "Stay quiet." He muttered.

Lily sighed, resolving to do what he asked as he crossed to the door and slipped out into the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind him.

----------

Harry crept over to the banister and looked down just in time to see a blur of a large torso barge up the stairs toward him.

"Ron?"

Ron looked up and smiled, running up the stairs two at a time. "Harry! Good. I was afraid that I'd have to go looking in every single bloody room to find you."

Harry laughed, feeling dazed as Ron slapped him affectionately on the back. "Ron, I don't…"

"What the ruddy hell are you doing here anyway?' asked Ron, looking around with a critical eye. 'I mean, sure, I know Fred and George's room is a bit dodgy and is likely to explode at any given second, but that's no reason you still should pass us up for _this_ place."

"Well, technically this _is_ my place now." Muttered Harry. He didn't want to speak too loudly in fear that Lily would be listening in the room just behind them; they were practically standing right outside the door. He hoped if he kept his voice down, Ron would follow lead.

But then again, Ron never really was one to take subtle hints.

"At least Kreacher isn't here.' Laughed Ron. 'That's got to be a bonus."

Harry smiled and went to say something in response, when there was a CRACK and Hermione appeared beside him, causing him to jump in surprise.

"Oh, so you _did_ find him then!" she said, looking at Ron.

"Well I told you I would, didn't I?" retorted Ron.

Hermione folded her arms over her chest. "Yes, well, it would have been nice if you had have actually told me you'd found him instead of allowing me to wander aimlessly around the house and stumble upon the most _horrific_ deceased Black Family House Elf memoirs."

"Er, are you two quite done?' laughed Harry, leaning in between them and signaling time out with his hands. 'And not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but Hermione, should you be climbing a mountain somewhere in Switzerland right about now?"

Hermione laughed and embraced Harry. "Well, I told my parents that I was coming back here for the afternoon. It only took me half an hour to apparate back the distance."

"And right into my bedroom too." Muttered Ron, his ears flushing.

"I did knock." Sang Hermione.

"What are you two doing here?" asked Harry loudly, putting out the simmering fight before it boiled over.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance, and Harry could tell instantly that they'd been conversing behind his back. Conversing about stuff that had to do with him. It both annoyed him and made him feel a little humbled.

"Well, we could ask you the same thing.' Said Hermione. 'Ron said you didn't move into the Burrow."

Harry frowned at Ron. "Did he now?"

Ron had the grace to blush.

"Well, it wasn't like I wouldn't have found out anyway, you know." Said Hermione. 'What I…or, what _we_ want to know, rather…is why you decided to come here instead."

"Is it space?" asked Ron. "Cause you know, you'd have total privacy at our place. Mum knows the deal with you and your stuff."

Harry shook his head. "No, its nothing like that. Look, do you reckon we could possibly go downstairs and…"

"Is it the room? Cause you could have Percy's room instead, or Charlie's."

"No, it's not the room."

"Is it Ginny?" asked Hermione softly, looking at him with sympathy.

"No! Its nothing to do with any of that!' cried Harry. 'Is this the only reason the two of you came up here to see me? Hermione, is this at the only reason you came all the way back from Europe? To interrogate me as to why I didn't move in? Because if it is, I can tell you where you can stick your sodding questions right now."

"We're not interrogating you!' huffed Hermione. 'It's just a little bizarre that you just decide one afternoon that you don't want to move into the Burrow after wanting to do almost nothing more since you were twelve years old."

"We just want to know what's changed mate, is all.' Muttered Ron.

Harry frowned, subconsciously taking a protective step back toward the door behind him. 'Things have just become more complicated, that's what's happened."

"But _how_?' urged Hermione. 'What aren't you telling us?"

When Harry said nothing, Ron sighed and without meaning to or not, took a step toward Hermione. 'We're not asking to be nosy, we're asking because we're concerned."

Harry looked at their faces, feeling a little cornered. He didn't know why he didn't just blurt it out. He knew he could trust the two people in front of him better than anyone in the world, but something held him back. Something in him wanted to keep it all a secret. A big, massive, hopeful secret that no-one could intrude on until he said so. It was to be one of the few things left he had any control over.

Hermione surveyed him with narrowed, critical eyes as if trying to see right through him, while Ron just stood there, awaiting Harry to speak. The silence was almost deafening.

"Are you doing drugs?" asked Hermione suddenly.

Harry blinked in utter shock, holding back the urge to laugh at the absurdness of her question. "I beg your pardon?"

"Because if you are, you can talk to us you know.' She continued, linking her arm with Ron's. 'We can help you, and we're here for you."

Now Ron was staring at her in astonishment too. The second passed where the two boys simply looked at her, totally convinced she had lost her marbles completely.

Then, Hermione blinked, as if realizing what it was she had just said. She frowned and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I was watching some day time soap on television before I came over." She said, shrugging.

"_Someone's_ on drugs, but I don't think its Harry.' Said Ron, looking at Hermione with a 'yeah, I'm talking about you' look.

----------

Lily giggled silently to herself. That Ron boy certainly had a good, quick sense of humor.

She was glad Harry hadn't managed to get them downstairs. It was very nice and enlightening to listen to him talk with his friends. She knew now that's who they were to him; they couldn't have been anything else. The way the interacted and talked with one another was in the manner of true friendship. A relationship that no doubt had survived a lot of hardships.

Shifting again into a more comfortable position, Lily listened back into the muffled voices through the door and to what it was they were discussing.

'…need your concern either, Hermione." Harry was saying.

"I know you don't, but you always seem to get it, it seems! When you do stuff like this, when you deliberately keep us out in the dark…'

"What I do with my private time is exactly that, private!' retorted Harry.

"Honestly, Harry, we don't really _want_ to know what you do in your private time." Said the other boy, Ron.

"Shut it, Ron! This is not the time to be making jokes!" Snapped the girl, Hermione.

"Well, you shouldn't be hassling him!" retorted Ron.

"You're doing it again." Said Harry.

"Doing what?" asked Hermione.

"Talking about me like I'm not standing right here!"

Lily smiled again. The dynamics between the three of them reminded her of James, Sirius and Remus when they were at school. All of them so different, yet they complimented each other so well when together.

There was another long moment of silence from outside, before the soft voice of that girl Hermione said, 'What were you doing in that room?"

"Room?' said Harry, trying to sound innocently casual. 'What room?"

"The room behind that door."

"What door?"

"The door you're trying very unsuccessfully to hide behind you."

Lily smiled again. She liked the way this Hermione thought. And even more than that, she liked the way she handled Harry. She had to be either Harry's girlfriend, or the sister he never got to have.

"It's just…' said Harry, apparently doing some very quick thinking.

"Just what?" laughed Ron.

"It's just…my room. You know, where I do all my thinking. And I was just in there analyzing my notes until you two came barging in and making a racket and why are you looking at me like I've grown another head, Hermione?"

"You've…been taking notes?"

"Don't look so shocked." Snapped Harry playfully.

There was a slap, and Lily guessed that Hermione had hit Harry back in response for lack of a better verbal articulation of her indignation.

"Are you sure that's all that's going on?" asked Ron slowly in a tone that made him sound like a guard from Scotland Yard.

"Are you sure you can't be more obvious about your suspicion?" laughed Harry.

"I don't like the look of you.' Said Ron. 'You're still jittery."

"You're delusional."

"Oh, no, you're not telling us everything."

"Hmm, wouldn't be the first time today." Muttered Hermione.

"What have you got in there, then?" demanded Ron.

There was a thump against the door, and Lily was sure that Harry had just thrown his back against it to stop Ron from opening it and walking inside.

"You can't go in there." Said Harry quickly.

"Why the sodding hell not?"

"Cause I said!"

"'_Cause I said'_? What are you, seven?"

"You're both being immature if you ask my opinion.' Said Hermione.

"Well, luckily enough for my sanity I didn't.' responded Ron. 'Now, come on, let's see these notes of yours."

"Look, why don't you and Hermione go wait downstairs in the kitchen and I'll bring them down to you? Then we can have some lunch and…'

"Why can't you just let me in?" laughed Ron.

There was another long pause, and Lily leant toward the door eagerly to see whether or not Harry was actually going to let his friends in. She highly doubted he would. If he was going to, he would have done so the moment they had arrived.

It unnerved her a little to learn what sort of person her son had become from this short conversation out in the hall. From what she could gather, he was rather secretive at times, sometimes fiercefully so. But it seemed unnecessary for him to be so from her point of view, especially when he had such good friends he could share things with.

"You've got a bird in there, don't you?" cried Ron suddenly, making Lily jump.

"A _what_?" spluttered Hermione.

"A girl! You've got a girl in that room! That's why you don't want us to come in and bust your scummy arse!"

"Ron!" cried Hermione in astonishment.

But Harry was laughing, almost bitterly. "_Now_ who's the one on drugs, eh?"

"I'm serious! Charlie used to get that look when he was hiding girls in his bedroom over the summer and he didn't want mum to know about it!"

"You really think I'm that sort of person, do you, Ron?' asked Harry. 'You really think I'd do that to Ginny? Or that I'd ever _want_ to, for that matter!"

"Well, I don't think I really know what's going on in that block head of yours lately! If you think the way to get through a war is by shacking up with some girl, then you really need me to – _OW_! Hermione, that was my _nipple_!"

Lily had to bite her lip to keep from bursting a gut laughing.

When Hermione spoke next, it was in a soft, calm tone. "Harry, look, we really don't mean to be intrusive. We just want to reassure you that whatever it is you're dealing with right now, even though you're quite adamant you don't want to tell us, we're here if you ever do want our help. We meant what we said after the funeral back in June – we're not going anywhere."

Harry sighed. "I know, and you have no idea how glad I am for that."

"You're not going to tell us, are you?" asked Hermione. It wasn't a question.

"Not yet, no."

"Promise you will later?"

"Yes, on everything that is good and decent, I swear I will tell you after its all over."

"Just tell me now it's not a girl."

"No, Ron, it's nothing like that!"

"Good, 'cause you know I would have pummeled you if it was."

"And I would have gladly stood here and took it like a man."

Lily relaxed back into her pillow as the three of them went into a few moments of small talk. She had to hand it to Harry – he'd certainly picked up his father's talent for lying. James used to be able to pluck a lie out of thin air and play it out so convincingly that even Lily believed him – even if she had been with him at the time of the rule-breaking. Lily suspected that Harry's friends didn't believe everything he had told them, but it had been good of them not to press him about it. They obviously knew what she was beginning to; that the more he was pushed, the more Harry stood his ground.

"Well, now that I've found out where you're staying, I have to go back home and tell mum that yes your alive, and that no you're not living under a bridge somewhere living on a two month old box of Bertie Botts Beans." Said Ron.

"Your mum is such a worry-wart." Laughed Harry.

"Oh, and I wonder why that is." said Hermione.

Harry laughed again. "It was good to see you two though. Really, it was."

"So, we can just drop in anytime then?" asked Ron.

"Sure, I don't see why not. Oh, but just…just let me know you're here first, alright? Don't ring the bell, just let me know. Hermione, make sure you bring me home a souvenir when you come home for real next week."

"Of course. You take care of yourself! No more of those all-night research sessions you've been pulling."

"God, she can't go ten minutes without nagging someone.' Muttered Ron. 'Come on woman, I'll apparate with you to the Ministry so you can get back to 'I'll-stand-on-top-of-a-cliff-in-overalls-and-bellow-at-alternating-pitches' land."

"You don't need to do that." She giggled.

"I know I don't – but I want to."

Lily raised her eyebrows as a loud CRACK signaled their departure. So, it seemed that she wasn't Harry's girl after all…

The door opened and Harry walked in, a grin on his face. Lily's heart leapt to see him smile out of joy. Not out of bitterness or disdain, but out of pure happiness. There were dimples in his cheeks and his whole face lit up.

He looked at her as he shut the door, his grin slowly fading but not turning into a spiteful one.

Lily sighed happily. "Friends of yours?"

Harry pursed his lips, looking as though he were trying very hard not to laugh. "Less talk, more eat."

* * *

A/N – I apologize for the delay, but my muse went on a ski trip up in the Alps. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Tell me your fave line! 

Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4!

* * *

"What's my Mother's middle name?"

"Paige, after great Grandma Paige on my father's side."

"Who are the Marauders?"

"James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew – most mischievous students to ever walk the halls of Hogwarts."

"How many OWL's did my father get?"

"Eleven. But he would have gotten twelve if he hadn't been so pathetic as revising his History of Magic notes."

"How do you open the Marauder's map?"

"You say 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good'."

"What was my mother's best subject at school?"

"Potions."

"What happens to Lupin every month?"

"He turns into a werewolf."

"What did my dad used to call his case of Lycanthropy?"

"Case of Lycanthropy? Ha! Try saying _that_ five times as fast as you can."

"Answer the question!"

"Alright, yeesh! He used to call it his 'Furry little problem.' And I tell you now; many of the girls in my year had a lot of theories on what _that_ really meant. Many of which had nothing to with Lycanthropy."

"Where was I born?"

"London Memorial."

"What was our address?"

"184 Longbow Crescent, Godric's Hollow."

"Where's the birthmark on my body?"

"You don't have a birthmark."

Harry clenched his jaw. _Bugger_, he thought. He had hoped that that would be the one to unsettle her confidence or to trap her out. He had been questioning her non-stop for the past half hour with every little scrap of information he had, and not once had she faltered. Not once has her voice wavered with uncertainty, or had she stumbled over and answer in her hurry to sound sincere. She looked him right in the eye with a steady gaze and spoke clearly. She was very, _very_ convincing.

But Harry wasn't going to believe her that easily.

He leant back in his seat, fingering the locket around his neck. He could see why she would have been sent to him. She was a very good actress.

Lily sighed and arched her back. "So, are we finished with the Twenty Questions, or are we going into a sudden death round?"

"I could ask you questions until the cows come home, but it really doesn't change my mind all that much."

"Why in heaven's name not?"

"There's a very reliable source on the inside that could have given you all that information. You could have spent months studying it until you knew it like the back of your hand. Like it were your own history."

"I'm sure that's what you like to tell yourself."

"Its one of many practicalities I have.'

"Aside from the fact that I might actually be your mother?' she asked, raising her eyebrows. 'You ever considered _that_ practicality late at night?"

Harry sat back in his seat in a slouch. "Don't think I'm going to make it that easy for you."

Lily blew air out through her lips in a hopeless manner. "Why don't you just give me Veritaserum, then? Wouldn't that end the Great Debate of 'is she or isn't she' once and for all?"

He let out a chuckle, wriggled his eyebrows and tapped his nose. "Yeah, see, I considered that. But then I _also_ considered the fact that giving you Veritaserum would be a complete waste of time if you'd been confounded into thinking you really _were_ Lily Potter, in which case you would only tell me what you believed to be the truth which, funnily enough, is the story you've been feeding me for the past four days."

_Really,_ she thought to herself as he gave her a smug smile. _You have to admire his smarts. He knows how to think. _

Harry massaged the snake of the locket with the pad of thumb as he watched her shift again. She'd been doing that a lot, he noticed. Every time she arched her back or twisted, she would bite her lip and looked to just be holding back a grimace. But she never complained, and never said anything expect a little grunt every now and again. Harry felt something strike him in the chest as he watched her flex her muscles in search of some respite; guilt. It can't have been very comfortable to have been tied to a bed for four days.

"Are you, er…alright?" he muttered.

Lily looked around him as if startled by his concern. "Well, my back hurts a little. I haven't used it properly in four days after all.'

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, watching her face without blinking. He didn't want to seem soft to her, but he didn't want to be cruel either. She may have been a Death Eater and possibly responsible for many of the deaths he had read about in the Prophet for the past year, but he certainly wasn't going to stoop to her level and be barbaric.

"Anything I can do?" he asked.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought. "Maybe…if you could just release my legs? Then I could stretch properly."

_What harm is there in letting her feet go?_ He thought. _Unless she wants to knock me out with those massive boots she's wearing. God, how can she walk on those heels? You could poke an eye out with those things! _

Shaking his head of thoughts of hazardous footwear, Harry pushed his chair back a little so he would be out of kicking range. Pulling his wand out of his hip pocket, he hesitated a second, before flicking it at her ankles and saying '_Evanesco_'.

Lily let out a sigh of reprieve as the binds vanished. Slowly, she lifted one leg, then the other and planted both feet flat on the mattress. She smiled, closed her eyes and groaned in sweet relief. Her muscles ached, but in a good way, as she flexed and stretched her legs and joints, twisting fully to the right and then the left, the bones in her back cracking back into place. It was amazing to be able to just _move_.

Harry watched her, stuck in a moment of fascination. Wormtail himself surely must have confunded her personally to make her like this. It was like this, in moments when she forgot herself and her situation, that he was watching her, that Harry could feel shivers run down his spine at how eerily exact she was to the way his mother had been described to him. To the way he had seen her as a teenager in Snape's memories. It was eye-catching and intoxicating, and it was taking all this wits to keep him in check and not get lost in the glorious possibilities she brought with her. He couldn't do that. That's what Voldemort wanted. That's why he had sent her…

With one final stretch, she relaxed and let her legs flop down onto the mattress, causing a cloud of dust to erupt and send them into a coughing fit.

"Gah…good _lord_!' she half laughed, half chocked. 'I think all of Buckingham Palace's dust was in that!"

Harry spluttered, waving the dust particles away from his face. "Bloody Kreacher." He muttered under his breath.

"Doesn't anyone look after this place?' she asked, looking around again. 'Looks like a biker gang bearing pitchforks rode through here."

"No, no-one's been here for a while."

Lily arched an eyebrow. "So, where exactly is 'here' anyway?"

Harry rubbed his hands together, daring to shift his chair a little closer to her again. "My house."

"You have a house?"

"I just said that, didn't I?"

And then, to his surprise, she fixed him with a stern look. "I sincerely hope you didn't blow all your inheritance on some decrepit estate for investment purposes, Harry James Potter. Because that is _not_ what that money was meant for."

Harry blinked. "No, I didn't…I mean…'

"That money was meant for your school supplies and living needs in case your father and I didn't make it through the war.' She went on. 'Not for you to spend on meaningless things like broomsticks, gold-plates scales and sweets at Honeydukes."

"I haven't misused it.' He said defensively. 'And trust me, I've been tempted!"

"Well, I'm betting there's not much left."

"There's heaps left!"

"There had better be.' She said. 'We had one of the larger vaults Gringotts had to offer and it was just about full last time I went down there."

"I haven't gone on spending sprees during the holidays if that's what you're afraid of.' Said Harry. 'The money you and dad left me has not been gambled away on Hippogriff races or spent on meaningless trinkets."

"Where did you get the locket from then?' she asked.

Harry paused, going pale. He looked down at the locket he had been fiddling with, then back up at her.

She looked as though she were hiding a teasing grin. "From a girl, is it?"

"I found it."

"You found it, as in a klepto 'finds' a stick of lipstick in her purse, or you found it as in a lucky person finds a penny on the street?"

"I found it.' Repeated Harry through gritted teeth.

"Where?"

Harry paused and looked down at his feet. "At the beach."

Lily cocked her head to the side, trying to look at the locket around Harry's long, slim fingers. From what she could gather, there was a pattern on the front of it in the shape of either a swan or a snake.

"Well, it's nice wherever you got it.' She said, relaxing back into the bed. 'I like it."

Harry blinked, once again trying to hide the fact that he was taken aback. Such subtle things had such a large impact on him. He remembered how, just the other day, his Aunt Petunia had commented him on the same necklace. How she had asked all those questions in practically the same order and same way, but the outcomes had been most different. Where Aunt Petunia had turned her nose up in disgust at the locket, Lily had accepted it with a smile.

Oh yeah, she was good.

Harry got to his feet quickly, feeling his heart start to pound. It was becoming incredibly difficult to stay in the same room with her for long periods of time without his gut starting to clench in an unfamiliar way.

"Where are you off to then?" she asked conversationally.

"Out. I'm leaving your legs untied so you can stretch, but don't even think about trying to worm your hands free." He said flatly, stuffing the locket back down his shirt.

"You're going out _now_?" she asked.

Harry, who had been hallway to the door, looked at her over his shoulder with raised eyebrows. "Yeah, you got a problem with that?"

Lily pursed her lips. "Just don't be out too late." She said, unable to help herself.

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, completely at a loss as to how to respond. So, he simply frowned, let out an indignant snort and left the room with a sharp snap of the door behind him.

Lily giggled to herself, stretching a let up toward the ceiling. He was very cute when he was inarticulate.

---------------

The warm, silent breeze ruffled his hair as Harry looked out over the hill. The sun was setting behind him, warming up his back and massaging his knotted muscles. The afternoon glow illuminated the paddocks stretched out in front of him and the smell of summer and blooming flowers tickled his senses.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there. He'd been so absorbed in his thoughts that one minute it looked to be late afternoon, and now the sun was setting behind him. The peacefulness of the stone fence that marked the borders of the Weasley's property upon which his sat was something he had sorely missed. For such a noisy house and family, their property was unusually quiet.

Harry blew air out through his lips and shut his eyes, taking a few moments to clear his mind. He was finally beginning to understand Dumbledore's constant need for a Pensieve. He felt as if his mind were like a clogged up drain, stuck fast with all the possibilities, ideas, conspiracies, thoughts and considerations he had been mulling over for the summer. His notes had helped alleviate his troubles somewhat, but it was no substitute for some quiet time-out. It was nice to be able to just sit there on the fence and listen to nothing but crickets chirping. He'd thought of barely anything else but sodding Voldemort and his sodding complexes for months, and he felt as if his mind were going to explode. There were things he would much rather have been doing, after all. Playing Quidditch with Ron, visiting Weasley's Wizards Weezers, sending Malfoy dungbombs in the mail, spending time with Ginny…

He shook his head and blinked away the image of the youngest Weasley from his mind. Why was he cursed with this annoying emotional attachment to red-headed witches?

A crunching sound of grass underfoot suddenly caught his attention, and Harry knew that his solace had been busted. He kept his eye on the horizon before him, not really minding that Ron had come out to sit with him.

"Sorry, I know I shouldn't be here.' Said Harry. 'Trespassing and all."

There was a snort, and then, "Like I care."

Harry's eyes widened. Either Ron had had a very unfortunate accident on his broom to send the pitch of his voice up an octave…or that wasn't Ron.

He looked around and felt his stomach twist. Ginny flipped her long hair over her shoulder as she climbed up onto the fence beside him with a catlike grace. Her features, like her brothers, had become more defined since he last saw her. More sharp and angular. Her bright brown eyes sparkled and her hair was so vibrant with the glow of the setting sun behind her it make the colour of fire look dull.

"Oh, hello." He said lamely, swallowing back a groan at his patheticness.

Ginny smiled at him. "Hello."

"I, er…I thought you were…"

"Yeah, I know who you thought I was. And I probably would have been who you thought I was and not who you didn't think I was if the person you though I was had a direct view of the back fence from _his _bedroom window instead of me."

Harry blinked.

Ginny sighed. "That sounded so much wittier in my head."

"I'm sure Hermione would have kept up with you." He smiled.

She smiled and looked at him. "What are you doing down here by yourself?"

"I just needed a place to think." He said simply.

"You want me to leave you alone then?"

Harry looked around at her, wanting to reach for the locket again. "Did you tell anyone I was here?"

"No, I didn't tell mum you were here."

"Then you can stay."

In all seriousness, he didn't know if he should have let her stay or not. He wanted her too. He so badly wanted just to sit with her in those comfortable silences they used to share and hold her hand, or lean up against her shoulder, or just smile openly at her. But he couldn't. He'd made that decision back in June, and wasn't going to go back on it and risk her safety just because of his desire for a little physical comfort.

"You look troubled." She said after a long pause.

Harry smiled. "Do I? I can't possibly imagine why that would be."

"Don't be a smart arse; it doesn't suit you."

"I thought you liked smart-arses."

Ginny pursed her lips. "What's bothering you, Harry?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Still waiting for hair to arrive in those 'special places'. Although I think I found one the other day in the shower. Of course, it could have always just been a stray eyelash…"

"Harry, I'm serious."

"No you're not, you're Ginny."

"_Harry_!"

Harry sighed. He should have known that Ginny wouldn't take his 'lame joke' strategy as any sort of hint that he didn't want to discuss things with her. Hermione, while she would have pushed him, had learnt not to continue to press him for information after his first or second joke. And even Ron knew that when the sarcasm came out, the topic was closed. But Ginny was always the one to break through and strip him raw, and he didn't know if it caused him to get more irritated with her or fall more in love with her.

She was making this 'I'll sacrifice the love of my teenage life for the sake of the world and its salvation' gig very hard on him.

"It's nothing I can't handle." He muttered.

Ginny sighed. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"What?"

"Push me away like that."

"It's the only way I know how to be with you at the moment."

Ginny frowned. "How can you say that?"

"I open my lips; I push out air."

"Stop being so horribly sarcastic whenever I start to talk seriously with you!" she snapped.

"Well, what did you expect to happen by coming down here, Ginny?' he asked, feeling that want to run away again. How was it women with red-hair got under his skin so much? 'What do you want from me? I have nothing to offer you anymore."

Ginny sat up a little straighter, her eyes blazing. "I know what you're trying to do, Harry James Potter, and let me tell you right now that it's not going to work. You can stop our relationship, fine. I don't agree with it, but I do understand it. Just don't think that I will have you strip away our friendship as well!"

"Don't you think this is hard for me too?' he cried. 'Do you think I wanted to break up with you in June? You think I enjoy pushing away the people I love? Living my life looking over my shoulder and walking on eggshells? You think I want to live in Grimmauld Place with…' he trailed off, breathing hard. Ginny was looking at him with suspicious eyes, and he looked away to spare himself the agony of having to lie to her.

Ginny's bottom lip trembled as she willed him to look at her. But he didn't. She reached out to take his hand, to just _touch_ him, but thought better against it. She wanted to comfort him, but it also suddenly occurred to her that she could be making it worse for him by being there. He seemed to be holding himself back from her by only the tiniest of threads, and the last thing she wanted was to add to his strain. He looked so tense already.

"Harry, just because we're not…' she stopped and sighed. 'You can still talk to me."

Harry looked down at his feet, his breathing returning to normal. He nodded, his shaggy hair bouncing with each bob of his head.

With one final longing look at him, Ginny summoned up all her maturity and self control and leapt down from the fence. She couldn't sit there any longer with him, and she felt he was both saddened and grateful for her choice to leave him in peace. After trying several times without success to say a goodbye to him, she wrapped her arms around herself and began back toward the house.

"You know,' she said, turning back suddenly. 'You don't need our permission to sit here. You can come whenever you like."

Harry smiled down at his shoes. "Thanks."

"You're practically family after all, blood-bonds aside." She giggled, hoping to lighten the moment.

Harry smiled and looked up; ready to make another joke about how dating Ginny would have been disturbingly wrong if they really had been related…when a sudden though struck him.

He leapt up as if the fence had bitten him. "What did you just say?"

Ginny looked a little startled at his sudden vivacity and eagerness. "Erm, just that you could sit on the fence…"

"No, the next bit!"

"Oh, just that you're family even though we don't share blood. Harry, what's wrong? You look like you've just seen Hagrid in fishnet stockings!"

But Harry wasn't listening anymore. He grabbed his Firebolt quickly and kissed Ginny on the cheek. "You're the best. Total genius."

And with that, he swung a leg over the broom, kicked off from the ground and zoomed off into the golden sky.

Ginny sighed as she watched him go, ignoring the tingle in her right cheek and resigning not to ponder the endless mystery that was her ex-boyfriend, Harry Potter.

-------------

"_Lily, it's him! Take Harry and Run! Hurry!" _

_Lily grasped Harry to her chest tightly as James moved her insistently toward the back door, the trembling of his hands not lost to her. "No, James, I'm not leaving you here to take him alone!" _

"_This isn't the time for women's liberation, Lily!' hissed James. He looked at her desperately, his brown eyes wide with both panic and determination. 'You have to take Harry and get yourselves out of here. Please, Lily…' _

_The lights went out, throwing the house into darkness. The silence was piercing and thick with tension, and even Harry who never sat still long enough to be given his bottle had gone eerily still, his bright green eyes looking around in curiosity. _

_And then the sound of footsteps came. _

_James grasped both Lily's shoulders in his hands. "Lily, please, you have to go. I'll hold him off." _

_Lily felt her heart break, knowing deep down what was going to happen when she left. Left her husband, the love of her life and father of her child, to the mercy of one of the most feared wizards of all time. James was an exceptional wizard, but no-one was ever a match for the Killing Curse. _

_She stared at him for what seemed an eternal moment, feeling her soul pulsate as he saw a single tear of desperation roll under his glasses and down his cheek. _

_She sobbed, leant forward and crushed her mouth desperately against his. "I love you, so god-damn much.' She whispered. _

"_I love you too. You make sure to tell Harry that. Now go, he's coming!" _

"_James…" _

Lily cried out as she jerked awake, breathing hard. She looked around the dusty room, finding herself not at the base of the stairs with her son in her arms, but tied down to a bed in a dusty old room. She was drenched in sweat and there was a sharp, unusual pain in the part of her hair.

_Just a dream_. She thought madly. _You're safe. _

But she frowned in sadness, wanting to sob at the reality that it wasn't just a dream. It was a reality; _her_ reality. James wasn't there to hold her and stroke her hair like he had always done when she awoke in the middle of the night, trembling with the effects of her nightmares. There was nothing beside her now but air. A gaping whole that matched the one in her heart.

Suddenly, there was a sound beside her like a whisper, making her jump and look around. There was nothing there but the chair in which Harry would sit when he talked to her, but she could almost feel another presence in the room.

She squinted, listening for any sort of sound. "James?' she whispered. 'Is that you?"

Nothing.

Lily sighed, feeling silly. It was a glorious fantasy, but she wasn't going to get her husband back that easily.

Resolving to have sweeter dreams, Lily took slow breaths and let her eyelids fall shut, blocking out a world that didn't include James and taking her back into one that could.

* * *

A/N – like it? Hate it? Let me know! You know the drill!

Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5!

* * *

"Professor Lupin?"

Remus smiled and looked up from his notes at the teenage boy sitting across the kitchen table. "Harry, surely by now you can call me Remus."

Harry smiled bashfully. "Sorry, _Remus_…can I ask you a question?"

"You just did, but you can ask another if you like."

Harry cleared his throat, wondering just how best to pose his questions without raising suspicion. His old Professor always had this uncanny talent for seeing right through Harry's attempts to casually extract valuable information. This was part of the reason why he had decided to visit Lupin's house on that particular afternoon; needing inside information in the least suspicious way.

"Could, er…' he stuttered, running his finger around the rim of his teacup. 'I was just wondering if my mum could produce a Patronus at all."

"Indeed she could.' Said Remus, jotting down notes on his already very long piece of parchment. 'During those times, Dumbledore insisted that everyone in the Order learn, considering the circumstances."

"Smart idea." Smiled Harry.

Remus snorted. "Yes, Dumbledore was like that – trying to prevent people from trying to kill us."

"Who's trying to kill us?" asked a new, female voice.

Harry looked around to see Tonks walk into the room from the hallway, four towels and a toiletry bag in her arms. Her hair, bright pink again, was in its usual style and her clothes were once again that of a Chili Peppers rock-concert.

Remus smiled up at her. "No-one's trying to kill us."

"Huh, that's new. Hey, Harry!"

"Hey, Tonks."

He gave him one last grin, placed the pile she was carrying on the bench top behind Remus and walked back out of the room again.

Remus's corner-of-eye glance at Tonks's departing pose wasn't lost to Harry, but Harry felt it best not to tease him about it just yet. It was good that Remus had finally gotten up the courage to start something with Tonks, and Harry was glad that his old mentor now had something else to fight for. He'd lost so many people already.

On that solemn though, Harry took another sip of his tea and prepared to ask his next question.

"Profess – er, Remus?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"What form did my mother's Patronus take?"

Remus looked up at Harry for a long moment, and then smiled. "A swan."

"A swan?"

"Oh yes. A big, beautiful swan. Wingspan like a Condor and bright silver like the moon.' Said Remus, looking fond of the memory.

Harry smiled, seeing an image of his mother standing behind her swan with her blood-red hair flying out behind her from the power of her Patronus in his minds eye. "She would have been able to deflect a few Dementors with it, I bet."

"Yes indeed!' chuckled Remus, going back to his notes. 'And not just Dementors either. A Patronus is a good way to distract enemies or Death Eaters if they're trying to attack you."

"Who's trying to attack us?" asked Tonks as she walked back into the room, carrying four pairs of socks in her hands.

Remus sighed. "No-one."

Tonks grinned. "Right on! I get the weekend off!"

And, after putting the socks with the towels, she walked back out of the room again.

"So, could anyone imitate someone's Patronus?" asked Harry carefully.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, could someone pretending to be someone else produce the Patronus of the person they were pretending to be?"

Remus shook his head. "No, definitely not."

"How come?" asked Harry. It was hard to contain himself; that had been the answer he had been hoping for.

"Well, because a Patronus comes direct for the soul. It's a part of pure energy that comes directly from within you…which is why you used to feel so tired when you first started trying to produce one. And also why so many young wizards can't do it. Their souls aren't developed enough to handle it.' He dipped his quill in the ink bottle and continued writing while still addressing Harry. 'Everyone's soul is unique, and no-one, not even the most skilled of wizards, can imitate another's soul. Its far too complex, and not something many people would even think to attempt."

"But, what if they didn't know any better?" pressed Harry.

"How do you mean?"

"What if someone believed themselves to be someone so much that they'd not think themselves of anyone other, even right to their last breath?"

Remus chewed on the inside of his bottom lip. "What someone believes themselves to be, doesn't change who they really are… even if they wish it with all their heart. Reality is the base that convictions are built from. You can mould your beliefs, but not the foundations on which it rests."

Harry nodded, feeling much more confident suddenly about his situation at home. It most circumstances, Remus was the best person to go to for advice in magical situations. He knew so much, and it was a shame that such knowledge went to waste simply because of old, ridiculous prejudices.

Remus paused from his notes and looked at Harry with a slight frown of sudden curiosity. "Why do you ask anyway?"

"Oh, er…' stuttered Harry, searching furiously for a quick lie. It was very hard to do so when Remus was looking at him like that, as if he were made out of glass. 'I was just thinking, you know, that it, er…it would be a good way to identify people. You know, sort out the imposters, not let that whole incident with Moody repeat itself and what-not."

A long silence then followed this fast, half babbled excuse in which Remus just stared at Harry, his light brown eyes boring into Harry's emerald ones. Harry hoped that he wasn't going to perform Legilimency, because he most certainly was out of practice.

"You know,' said Remus, stroking his chin. 'That's actually a good idea."

Harry blinked. "It…it is?"

"Yes, it is. Actually, that's a _very_ good idea." muttered Remus in awe, reaching for a blank piece of parchment and scribbling down something on it.

Harry kept silent, taking another sip of his drink to hide his sigh of relief. He understood Remus's curiosity, but what was he meant to say? 'Oh, I need to know so I can give a wand to the Death Eater I'm holding captive in Grimmauld Place so I can prove once and for all who she is? Oh, and did I mention she's a dead ringer for Lily Potter? No, seriously, she's like her double!'

Harry snorted into his cup as he imagined the look on Remus's face if he really did tell him.

"I don't know why we didn't think of that before.' Said Remus, finishing his notes of Harry's idea with a firm full-stop. 'You're right, it would save a lot of trouble with imposters using Polyjuice potion and such and Dora _what_ are you _doing_?"

Tonks, who had just come back down the hallway and into the room, stopped in her tracks with a large box in her arms. "Huh?"

Remus sighed and threw his quill down. "I asked you what you were doing."

"Oh, er…' she stuttered, looking around as if hoping an answer would jump out at her and save her from the interrogating gaze Harry had just endured.

"What's in the box?" asked Remus, craning his neck to see.

"Just some shirts." Said Tonks, going a little red.

"_My_ shirts?"

"Well, Remus, there certainly aren't any of _my_ shirts in your wardrobe."

Remus spluttered, getting to his feet. "And what were you going to do with them?"

"I was, er…going to give them to good will." She said, nodding matter-of-factly.

"Good will?' said Remus, looking shocked and appalled. 'But…but these are my _shirts_!"

Harry smiled into his cup as he took another sip.

"And when was the last time you wore any of these anyway?' said Tonks, arching two pink eyebrows as Remus tried to look into the box. 'I haven't seen any of these on you since the wee months of 1995."

"What about this one?' asked Remus defensively, pulling out a brown shirt and displaying it to her.

Tonks grimaced. "Urgh, so two years ago."

"I only bought it last week!"

"Oh, really? Well, I don't know what you were thinking when you bought it because it's grotesque." She said, snatching it off him and throwing it back in the box.

Remus just blinked stupidly at her. "And my towels and socks? Are they going to Goodwill too?"

Tonks went pink again as she placed the box on the bench. "Yes, they are."

"I don't think they'll want my towels and my socks, Dora."

"Remus, some people have to wear their shoes with bare feet and dry themselves with old papers!"

Remus rolled his eyes and sat back down heavily. "This is the most ridiculous argument we've ever had. And what's even more ridiculous is that I'm getting all indignant over you raiding my closet without my permission!"

Tonks smiled, put the towels, socks and toiletry bag in the box and kissed Remus on the cheek. "Fear not, darling, there's still clothes left there for you. But, they might not be left there much longer either because, honestly, either you're totally uncaring about your clothes and the concept of 'matching', or you've hired Ray Charles as your fashion consultant."

"Don't you have something _else_ you can be doing?" sighed Remus.

"Oh yeah, so I do.' She said, running back out of the room. 'I haven't checked out your shoes yet!"

Remus put his head in his hands and groaned. "Bloody women."

Harry coughed into his tea and laughed. "I never thought I'd hear you say something like that."

"I didn't think I'd ever say it again." Said Remus, lifting his head and giving Harry a smile.

"How are things? You know…with you and Tonks."

Remus nodded, resuming his notes. "Yeah, they're good. Very good, actually."

"Very good?" asked Harry softly, unable to suppress a smirk.

"Very, _very…_ good." Said Remus, nodding.

Harry was sure he saw Remus grin.

All this, this conversation, drinking tea, good company…all of it was a normalcy that Harry had been craving for days. Visiting Ron at the Burrow became harder and harder each time he went, for the temptation to tell his best friend about the imposter locked up at Grimmauld Place became more and more difficult to resist. He wanted to tell Ron, but just not yet. Not until he was completely certain of what or who she really was.

Harry looked at Remus from the corner of his eye. The older man, while looking as ragged and worn as ever, looked somewhat happier that Harry could ever remember seeing him. He wished he could have asked Remus for help with Lily; Remus would have been able to tell instantly if she was an imposter or not. But Harry didn't want to intrude on Remus's happiness, especially in times when it was becoming increasingly hard to find any.

"Look, I'd better get going.' Said Harry, getting to his feet.

"So soon? You only get here just an hour ago."

"Yeah, well…I've got things to do that unfortunately can't take care of themselves."

Remus got to his feet and walked with Harry over to the fireplace. "Alright, but make sure you come and see me every now and then. I don't like the thought of you stuffed up in Grimmauld Place all by yourself."

Harry's hand stopped short of the Floo pot on the mantelpiece. He looked around at Remus, who was looking as if he were suppressing a smile. "Who said I was at Grimmauld Place?"

"Molly happened to owl me and tell me."

"What, do you guys have bi-weekly 'Harry's Buisness' meetings after your sodding Order meetings or something?" said Harry.

"It isn't at all like that.' Said Remus with an eye roll. 'Molly was worried about you."

Harry sniffed. "Something new and different for her, then."

"She may not be your guardian, but she's got every right to be concerned, you know."

"Yeah, and I've got every right to make my own choices without people discussing my motives behind my back!'

Remus frowned. "What's gotten into you?"

Harry felt himself flare up, but he quickly extinguished it with a sigh. Remus was right; Mrs. Weasley did have every right to be mindful of Harry and his situation. And it wasn't fair of him to go flying off the handle at her or Remus for caring about him.

"I'm sorry, Remus. I don't mean to be short tempered."

"It's just a genetic fault, I completely understand." Smiled Remus.

Harry smiled weakly.

Remus took Harry by the shoulders and fixed him with a warm look. "I get that you're under a lot of stress and pressure at the moment, but it doesn't help you or your situation if push people away. Nor does it help if you condemn them for caring about you. You're not alone in this, or anything else late adolescence throws at you."

Harry laughed. "I think I'd rather take on Voldemort that the post-repercussions of puberty."

"Wouldn't we all?"

Feeling somewhat better, but for some reason a little eager to return back to Grimmauld Place, Harry shook Remus's hand in farewell, stepped into the fireplace with a fistful of power and disappeared in a whirl of green flame.

Remus shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and frowned thoughtfully at the dead fireplace. It was very obvious that Harry was keeping secrets; Remus could almost smell the guilt on him. It wasn't that Harry wasn't entitled to his privacy, because he more than anyone deserved it. But whatever it was he was hiding looked to be tiring him, even burdening him. His eyes had been red with fatigue, he'd looked pale and his hair was sticking up more than usual – a telltale sign, like his father, that something was bothering him.

He jumped as he felt a pair of hands suddenly slide around his waist and link around his stomach.

"You know, I'm sure if you stare at it a bit longer gamma rays of energy will burst from your eyes and set it alight.' Came Tonks's husky whisper in his ear.

Remus smiled and turned his head so he could kiss her on the temple. "Finished raiding my closet, have you?"

"Well, I got to your trousers and feared I might go blind. Where did Harry go?"

"Home."

"He actually has one?"

"After a fashion."

She ran her hands over his chest, up to his shoulders and gave him a quick massage. "Well, I might choof off too. I want to get these things back to my place."

Remus groaned as she finished his backrub and went to collect the box of his clothes. "Why is everyone leaving me here all alone? Are they afraid they may catch something? Honestly, Lycanthropy isn't contagious. Trust me, they've done studies."

Tonks laughed, shrunk the box with a flick of her wand to the size of a sugar cube and put it in her hip pocket with her wand. "Aw, is the big bad wolf feeling all lonesome?"

"Well, Harry left, and now you're off within a span of five minutes!' laughed Remus. 'What, do I have bad breath or something?"

"Mmm, let me check.'

Remus's eyes widened in surprise as in one quick movement, she closed the distance between them, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and brought his lips down against her in a kiss. He moaned and let his eyes fall shut as her tongue immediately begged for entry. Being the gentleman that he was, he granted it and shared with her a very quick but satisfying moment of French kissing.

She pulled away with one last taste and grinned up at him. "No, all clear."

"You absolutely sure about that?" he asked, putting his hands on her hips and backing her out of the room.

Tonks giggled as he dipped in to nibble on her ear. "Well, maybe I'd better do another quick inspection."

----------------------

Harry rubbed his upper arms as if cold, trying desperately to ignore the set of emerald eyes so like his own staring at him.

She was persistent; he had to give her credit for it. She's been watching him for a good fifteen minutes, since the moment he'd walked in the room and sat himself down in his chair without a single word, waiting for him to speak first. It was the sort of routine they'd built up over the course of the week of her being there. Harry would walk in, demand answers and interrogate her for however long he saw fit, then storm out again, occasionally bringing in food for her and casting charms to help her stay hygienic and relieved. Every day it had been the same.

Harry dragged his eyes away from his shoes to look up again to see if she was still looking. As he had expected, she was watching him. She looked peaceful, as if being tied up for almost a week had forced her to achieve a sort of Zen-like state to forget about her aching muscles and the fact that she hadn't used her legs or even sat up in so long.

What he had learned from holding her for so long, was that she wasn't like other Death Eaters. She was patient, quiet, and almost placid. Any other Death Eater would have cracked by now; would have become so frustrated that they would have blurted out the truth of who they were, or attempted to break free and attack him.

But not her. Every time he left the room, he came back to find her just as he'd left her. Whenever he let her legs free so she could stretch, there were never any marks on the walls as evidence that she'd had a tantrum trying to wriggle free. She slept peacefully, her face never held a sneer or trace of malice, she spoke clearly and with excellent articulation, and she knew so much about muggle culture.

_Maybe because she's your mum_, a small, tentative voice in the back of his head said suddenly.

He very quickly smothered that voice with a large pillow filled with Hippogriff feathers.

He looked at her again, and rolled his eyes to see her still looking at him.

"_What_?' he snapped. 'What are you staring at?"

She frowned slightly in thought and looked at him as if trying to find all the secrets of the universe within his complexion. "Where did you get that scar?"

Harry almost fell out of his chair.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"Your scar; the one on your forehead. Where did you get it? It's an unusual shape. What is it, a lightning bolt?"

A feeling like an oncoming train started building up in his chest as he watched her face, her eyes wide in curiosity. Defiance, he could handle that. Sarcasm, he could handle that too. False pretenses, very good acting and flat out lies…he could take all that.

But deliberate stupidity, he could not.

For her to lay there and ask him about his most personal feature with such audacity lit his anger on fire. He clenched his fists, feeling every ounce of frustration, hurt and confusion mingle together under his skin, itching to come out.

"You know what,' he muttered through clenched teeth. 'I'm sick and tired of this game. For six days I've sat here with you, trying to get you to slip. And I admit it, you're bloody good. Not once have you let this notion drop that you're my mother, and I commend you for that. Voldemort did a good job conditioning you."

"Harry, what's…"

But he went on as if she hadn't spoken. "And here I was, thinking I could get you to talk all on my own. Direct insults to me I can handle. But I will _not_ have you lay there, looking like that and being who you really are, and mocking the mark my mother's death gave me!"

Lily blinked. He was very angry for some reason.

"How does me dying have anything to do with you getting…"

"YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER!"

Harry stood up with such force he knocked the chair backward and sent it crashing into the wall. Lily flinched as he stood there fuming, his eyes narrowed at her in a glare. The air around him was practically vibrating with fury and power.

He let out a cry of anguish and threw his arms up in the air as he began to pace angrily like a caged lion in front of her. "You think I need this right now? You think it's not bad enough that I have Voldemort on my arse, just like he has been ever since I was 14 and saw him come back? Ever since I was sodding _born_? You think I _want_ to push my friends away when I love them so much?"

"Harry, that's the last thing I want."

Harry laughed bitterly. "Of course it is. Because you're my _mother_, and only want me to be _happy_."

Lily frowned. "What's the matter, Harry?"

"YOU, _dammit_! You and you being here and you looking the way you do and sounding the way you do, _THAT'S_ what's the matter! You're screwing with my head, and you couldn't even give a toss, could you?"

"I do give a toss!"

"You think I enjoy putting myself through this psychological torment?' He cried, his eyes blazing. 'It's just what I need, isn't it? Because having dreams of Voldemort killing my parents, and Cedric and visions of torture and pain just aren't quite doing the trick!"

Lily looked horrified. "You have dreams like that?"

But he went on, ignoring her. "I have better things to be doing than sitting here with you, wasting my time on repetitive issues! There's a war going on, dammit, and I'm the only one that can stop it! I have a duty to everyone out there, I have things to be doing that are of the greatest importance, and I most _certainly_ don't want to be here talking to _YOU_!"

"And yet you _are_ here talking to me!' she snapped back. 'Just like you have been every day for the past week!"

Harry glared at her. "Its not like you think it is."

"Actually, you know what, I think it is!' she retorted, feeling so helpless to calm him that it was infuriating. 'You keep up this steely wall of indifference to pretend that you don't care, but you care so much that you could almost burst! You could have turned me into the Ministry the day I showed up on your doorstep, but you didn't. You could have told your friends about me or sent me packing to Azkaban, but you didn't! You kept me here! Every day you walk out that door, hours and sometimes minutes later you come walking back in. You listen without interruption to everything I say…'

"I listen because I want to catch you out." He said angrily.

"You listen because you want to hear the sound of my voice!' she cried. 'You come in here even when you're so tired you look like you've just swum the channel, just to sit with me. You're sitting by my side when I wake up and you don't leave until I fall asleep. So you tell me, if you can't stand the sight of me so much, why is that?"

Harry just stood there, completely silent with his hands balled into fists at his side.

"I think on some level, you want all this to be true and not another spell trying to hoodwink you.' She said, not waiting for an answer. 'Because deep down you hope with everything that you are that I just _might_ be telling you the truth."

Harry shook his head in defensive denial. "No, it can't be true."

"Yes it can, Harry. It _is_ true."

"No, it _can't_ be!' he insisted. He didn't seem angry anymore, just desperate.

Lily watched him fall apart piece by piece, feeling her heart break with each part of him that fell away. She had never wanted to hold him more than she did in that moment. He looked so _young_. With all that he had going on and how he expressed himself and his duties, you would sometimes forget that he was only just barely seventeen.

Harry ran his hands through his hair and then fixed her with another look, his large green eyes shining. "All I ever wanted was you and Dad to come back. All I ever wanted was for the two of you to be there for me. Do you even know how badly I missed you? How badly I wanted you to see me grow up? I wanted you to be there when I got my acceptance letter to Hogwarts, and when I made the Quidditch team, and when I won the Cup in third year, and when I defeated the Dragon in fourth year…' he trailed off, his raging voice now down to barely a whisper. 'I just wanted you to be there to love me."

"I _do_ love you sweetheart." Said Lily, just holding back tears herself.

Harry winced and looked away, the muscles in his jaw sticking out like walnuts. "I was given some good advice this afternoon. I was told that reality is the base from which convictions a built from. I may want to believe that you're who you say you are, but reality says otherwise. My mother died sixteen years ago. This right here,' he said, jabbing a finger at his scar 'is the proof. My mother and father are both dead, and no spell or wishes can change that."

"No, Harry, this _is_ me!' she insisted desperately, struggling to reach out and touch him. '_Look_ at me, listen to what I'm saying!"

"I'm sorry." He said, pulling his wand out.

"Harry, no, wait! Listen to me…"

"_Stupefy_."

She went slack, her unfinished sentence hanging in the air like a condemned angel.

Harry slipped his wand back in his pocket, taking deep breaths as he looked at her unconscious form. This was getting far too out of hand. He had to take her somewhere where they could take the charms off her. He couldn't stand being around her anymore. It was just far too painful.

Suddenly, the lights of the room flashed, causing Harry to jump. He frowned as the bulbs flickered on and off, signaling what Sirius had informed him they meant.

There was a muggle approaching the house outside.

Giving Lily one last look, Harry headed out of the room, down the stairs and to the front door. Creeping quietly past Mrs. Black's portrait (something he still had not been able to remove), he pulled the door inward a fraction and peered out into the square.

There was a muggle postman with his massive satchel slung over his shoulder bursting to the point of breakage with letters. His blue uniform was immaculate but looked oddly out of place in such a decrepit square. He was standing a good distance from the front door that Harry was hidden behind with a confused look on his face as he looked down at the letter in his hand, then back up at the houses.

Harry knew instantly why he looked so befuddled. He was looking for the non-existent letterbox of Number Twelve.

Wanting this letter very badly, Harry waited until the postman wasn't looking in his direction before slipping out the door and hearing the house disappear with a quick 'pop' behind him.

"Excuse me,' said Harry, waving the postman over. 'You right?"

The tall, thin, middle-aged postman looked around at Harry with something of a relieved smile. "Er, yes, somewhat. I was just having a spot of bother with this letter, see. I'm looking for Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, but its not here. See, there's ten and eleven and thirteen, but twelve…"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, number twelve is…kind of hidden. She's a hard one to find if you don't know where to look, know what I mean?"

"Must be!" laughed the postman. 'You live there, do you?"

"Indeed I do."

"You, er…what's this say…Mr. H.J. Potter, then?"

"Indeed I am."

"Ah, excellent! Saves me a good half hour trying to find your inconspicuous premises then, doesn't it?" laughed the postman, handing Harry the letter.

Harry smiled. "Indeed it does. You have a good day."

"You too, lad. You too!"

Harry waited until the postman had left the square and was completely out of sight, before going back to the alley space between eleven and thirteen and summoned back Number Twelve. The large black door appeared and Harry quickly snuck back through it, glad to be back inside once more.

Tiptoeing back past the portrait once again, he headed down the hall and down to the kitchen. He stood next to the dining table and ripped the letter open with a few flicks of his finger. He pulled the single sheet out and read over its small contents.

And felt himself go numb.

Harry's heart started beating so fast it felt as if it were going to crack open his ribcage. His eyes widened as he read over it again and again and again, trying to convince himself that his eyes were lying to him. They had to be, they had to be…

They weren't.

Harry's mouth opened and closed a few times as if he were going to try to say something. All at once his chest heaved and he clapped one hand over his mouth and ran from the room straight for the nearest bathroom.

In his wake, the letter floated to the stone floor where it rested face up, revealing the sentence that had just changed Harry's life.

_Results for DNA test: Harry James Potter blood- match to specimen: Positive. _

* * *

A/N – Gah! Was that shite? I have no idea what a letter like that would say, so let's just assume, shall we? This is fiction after all!

Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6!

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Ginny arrived in the living room of Grimmauld Place in a whirl of green flames later that night, covered in soot. She stepped out of the fireplace in a crouch and straightened up, dusting the offending ash from her shirt, jeans and hair with an irritated mumble.

"Damn bloody soot." She grumbled, shaking her hair like a dog out of a bath.

She looked around the empty room, disappointed that Harry wasn't there. She wanted to talk to him about his recent icy attitude toward her brother and parents, and wasn't going to leave until she got some answers. Just because he was the Boy Who Lived, did not mean he had the right to cancel a Sunday dinner invitation with his only reason being 'cause I just cant'.

So, with her determination in full swing, she dusted a few more patches of soot from her chest, squared her shoulders and headed off on her search.

Immediately, her first thought was that he would be down in the kitchen having supper. Harry had a furious appetite second to that only of The Weasley's and their bottomless pits of stomachs.

She navigated her way out of the room, down the hall and to the stairs that led down to the massive dining room with a stealth that surprised even her. She had leant very quickly in the summer before her fourth year to be very quiet near the portrait of Mrs. Black. Ginny didn't want to announce her presence to Harry with the screaming profanities of an old, prejudiced hag.

She crept down the stairs and peered into the large dining area. It was very dark, lit only by the fireplace at the far side of the room. The golden firelight illuminated only one side of every piece of furniture, leaving the rest in shadow, and it took her a moment to adjust to the dim light.

And that's when she spotted him.

He was sitting at the head of the table, the fire crackling away behind him. He was turned away from her and had his feet up on the table, crossed at the ankle. His head was bowed, his chin resting on his chest and there was a large, half full glass bottle on the table beside him with a piece of paper beside it.

"Harry?" she said, crossing over to him.

From the doorway, he had looked to be asleep. But now that she had moved around to look at him properly, he was awake, if not groggy. He was nursing a half full whiskey glass in his lap, his long fingers curled around it as if it were his lifeline.

"Harry?' she asked again, craning her neck to look at his face. 'What are you doing?"

"Basking in the brilliance of my failure." He slurred, deadpan.

Ginny blinked and frowned, straightening up to survey the scene once more. "Are you drunk?"

He laughed a hollow chuckle and lifted his head to look up at the wall behind her. "Well, I'd bloody better be. Four glasses later and all…"

"Four glasses! Harry…' she reached over, snatched up the bottle, gave it a sniff and grimaced. 'Is this _Firewhiskey_?"

"I hope so; otherwise I've been horrendously swindled."

Ginny gaped at him as he took a long swig of his drink, snatched the bottle back out of her hand and poured himself another one.

"What in Merlin's name are you drinking Firewhiskey for?"

"I was _thirstay_!"

"Then you should have had water, you idiot.' She said shortly, putting her hands on her hips. 'What on earth possessed you? Getting sloshed! I can't believe what I'm seeing."

Harry smiled up at her stupidly. "Then perhaps you need glasses. You can have mine if you want."

"Don't be absurd."

He took another sip of his drink, then groaned and shrunk away from her has if she were beating him over the head with a dishpan. "Go 'way, Ginny, I don't want you to see me like this."

"Believe me, Harry…I've seen you worse."

"What're you doing here anyway?" he muttered, filling his glass up again with the light brown liquid.

Ginny ran a hand through her hair, still quite unable to grasp the concept that Harry Potter was actually drunk. "I came over to talk.

Harry frowned and let his chin rest on his chest again. "I don't want to talk."

"No, apparently you want to get Liver Cancer."

"Don' be such a crabby, righteous ol' woman, Ginny,' slurred Harry. 'Tha's Hermione's job."

Ginny pursed her lips and bit back her retort. Whatever had happened to him, it seemed to have hit him hard.

"Look, Harry, I know that you're under a lot of pressure right now, but you need to remember that you're a powerful wizard, and…'

"Even more than I don't want to talk,' he interrupted lazily, grabbing the bottle again, 'I do _not_ want a _pep_ talk."

Ginny frowned and snatched the Firewhiskey bottle out of his hand. "Okay, that's enough for you."

Harry frowned and groaned, but didn't make to grab the bottle back. "Have you no conscience? Deriving a man of his one-way ticket to happy hour?"

"Harry, whatever this newest bump in the road is for you, turning to alcohol and getting schnockered is not the way to solve it, or help you forget it."

Harry just continued to look into space, his eyelids half closed and his chest rising and falling slowly.

"Harry, what's the matter?' asked Ginny softly, bending down to look at him. 'What's happened?"

After a very long moment, the silence only broken by the crackling of the fire, Harry groggily dragged his eyes away from the floor to look at her. He smiled, let his head roll back and sighed happily.

"Go upstairs. Second room on the left, first floor."

Ginny frowned. "What?"

"Upstairs, bedroom. Go look!"

Rising to her feet slowly, Ginny felt suspicion rise up in her chest. Was this just some plan to get her out of the room so he got get more booze to drown himself in?

Harry laughed, his whole body shaking. "_Trust_ me."

So, with one final skeptical look, Ginny placed the bottle back on the table and went out of the room to investigate what all this was about.

Harry smiled and grabbed the bottle up as soon as she was out of the room, filling up his glass again with more of the glorious liquor. He'd never been drunk before, and he was very much regretting his stubborn denial to experience it earlier on. Being drunk, he concluded, was good. It took the sharp edges out of life, made them hazy and fuzzier and softer, making the world seem a lot less harmful and a lot more happy and safe. The one good thing about this house, he had quickly decided, was the self-filling liquor cabinet in the basement.

After a few minutes, Harry heard quick, light footsteps approaching, and he looked up to see Ginny stumble back into the room, white as a sheet and eyes bugling in shock.

"What the…how has…how can…' she stuttered, pointing up toward the stairs with a look of utter disbelief on her face.

Harry smiled and help up the bottle to her. "Care to join me?"

Ginny blinked and sunk down into a chair beside Harry in a dream-like state. She stared off into space for a moment, before looking around at him. "Harry, what the hell is going on? Who is that up there?"

"That, my love, is my mother." Said Harry, looking into his glass with distant interest.

"No, she can't be!"

"Well, she is."

"No, Harry, that's not right." Said Ginny, shaking her head in denial. "I mean, it's just not possible!"

Harry shrugged.

"I mean, come on, she can't _really_ be your _mother_!" laughed Ginny.

He smiled and swung his legs off the table so he could sit up properly. "Here,' he said, grabbing the piece of paper and tossing it clumsily to her. 'Have a gander at that."

Ginny grabbed the letter with two shaky hands and read over it. She frowned, confused at all the muggle terminology. "What's DNA?"

"Look, basically, muggles have this way of matching blood from two people and are then able to tell if they're related or not. I did the test, it came back positive. Ergo, woman upstairs with strange resemblance to dead mother _is_ dead mother."

"Blood match? How did you get blood from her?"

Harry groaned and covered his ears. "No more technical questions!"

"Merlin's beard,' muttered Ginny. She reached over, plucked the glass out of Harry's hand and sculled the rest of the whiskey.

Harry laughed and clapped Ginny on the shoulder as she spluttered and grimaced. "See? Now you're getting it! _That's_ my girl."

Ginny coughed and patted her chest as the liquid burned its way down. "Harry, where did she come from?"

"Buggered if I know."

"What did you do when you saw her?"

"Tied her up and held her prisoner."

Ginny blinked. "How long have you known about her?"

Harry sighed and filled his glass up again. "Since my birthday.

"Harry…your birthday was last week."

He just smiled into his glass.

Ginny's mouth dropped open. "Do you mean to tell me that you've had your dead mother locked up here for a week and haven't told any of us?'

"Yah, pretty much."

She just gaped at him again as he continued on his sixth or seventh drink. Now it all made sense! Why he'd been looking so tired and burdened, why he'd shut everyone out, why he hadn't come to the Burrow…all this time, she thought it was because of her. How had he been handling all this for a week all by himself? And why hadn't he told anyone? Or handed her into the Ministry if he believed her to be an imposter?

She rubbed her eyes, quite unable to process a logical thought. If _she_ could barely get over it, she could only just image how he was feeling at the moment.

"So, what are you going to do?" she asked softly.

Harry held his glass up to eyelevel and looked at her through the transparent glass. "Well, I suppose I should go talk to her.' He said. 'But first, I'm going to finish this drink."

Ginny smiled in spite herself. "I won't tell anyone about this. Not until you want me to."

"I'd appreciate that, cheers." He muttered. 'And I'd also appreciate it if you could not tell your mum that I'm a little zonked. Make up something; tell her I was busy plotting all my different options for the domination of ultimate evil using Lego figures and play dough."

"I think I can make up something." She said.

Harry just sat there, feeling the fog of sleep washing over him as she got up and made to leave, but not before giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He leant forward on the table, propped his chin up in his hand and rolled the neck of the whiskey bottle with the long fingers of his other hand, staring dopily into the copper liquid. He didn't mind that Ginny now knew one of his deeper secrets. In fact, it made him feel lighter somehow. Then again, that might have just been the alcohol.

After a few minutes of mindless staring, Harry downed the last dregs of his glass and shakily got to his feet. He swayed a little, unable to figure out just why the room was swaying as if he were on a ship, before steadying and making his way up stairs.

The trip upstairs took a lot less time that he had expected, despite the fact that he had tripped on his shoelace half way up the flight of stairs to the first floor and went tumbling back down like a slinky. For all too soon, he was standing at the second door on the left, and then he was taking a deep breath and grabbing the door handle, and turning it, and pushing the door inward…

Harry looked down at her unconscious form still tied to the bed, still unable to properly process just what was happening. All of it was just so surreal, and he would still be in a heavy case of stubborn denial if it weren't common fact that DNA tests were almost one hundred percent accurate. He just had so many _questions_. How was she here? Why was she here? How had any of this happened? How had she survived that Halloween night when Dumbledore had been so adamant, like everyone else, that she had died? There was only one way he was going to get these answers…by asking her.

But there was something he needed to do first.

"_Ennervate_."

She stirred, a grimace shaping her beautiful features before her eyes fluttered open. Harry felt another sucker-punch to his gut as her gaze landed on him. His mouth felt very dry, and his fingers felt numb around his wand.

Gods, what was he going to _say_ to her?

"Harry?' she said, twisting to get a better look at him.

Harry remained silent, quite unable to do anything in that moment but stare at her and repeat in his mind the mantra, _she's my mother, she's my mother, she's my mother…_

"Harry, are you alright? You're looking a little tired." She said, looking as if she wanted to say more but was only just holding herself back.

He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to say something. _Anything_. She just watched him, concern etched all over her face. His heart was thumping again like the drum of an ADD marching band. Was that what it looked like to have a mother be worried about you?

After trying a few more times to say something, Harry sighed in defeat, pulled out his wand and waved it at the binds on her legs and wrists. The fell away to the floor with a soft patter.

Lily looked at him, dumfounded. "What…'

"Get up." He said flatly.

Slowly, as if not trusting his judgment, she sat up. She swung her legs around so they hung over the side of the bed and surveyed him with narrowed eyes. "Are you letting me go?"

"Stand up." He said, holding his wand steady although his head was spinning with alcohol and adrenaline.

"What's that smell? Harry…have you been _drinking_?"

"I said stand up."

Lily did so, very slowly. She was as shaky as Harry, her muscles groaning under their first real use for the week. She stretched a little, despite the fact that Harry was pointing his wand at her. She ruffled her hair, smoothed out her clothes and stretched her arms, before turning her attention back to her son.

Harry shivered, realizing now that he was only a little taller than her; her eye level was at his nose. It was all different now, seeing her at this angle and knowing who she was. He wanted to scream, run and hide, cry, fall to his knees and laugh all at once.

They said nothing as Harry just stood there, wand tip pointed at her chest. She looked worried, as if fearing he'd finally cracked and was going to do something irreversible to her. He began to circle with her, both of them keeping their distance as they slowly took one another's place in the room.

"Harry, I can see you're upset,' she started softly, putting her hands up where he could see them 'but whatever it is you think you're going to find out by releasing me and cursing me, you can just…'

But she stopped mid-sentence as he twirled the wand in his hand to he was holding the tip, handle out and held it out for her to take.

Lily was now convinced he'd totally lost his marbles. "Harry, what on _earth_…"

"Show me your Patronus." He said.

"What?"

"Your Patronus. Conjure one for me.' He said, urging her to take his offered wand. 'You know how, I'm assuming?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Then do it.' He said, almost daring her. 'Go on then."

Lily frowned. What was he up to? Or was he so drunk on whatever it was he had been drinking that'd he'd forgotten that she was a 'dangerous Death Eater'?

"You'd give your wand willingly to a Death Eater, leaving you unarmed?" she asked, still unable to believe that this was legitimate.

Harry smiled flatly. "Sadly, I don't have any spare wands lying around for situations like this.' He said, his tone dripping with disdain. 'Besides, you're my mum, right? No way you'd curse me. Now show me your sodding Patronus!"

Lily just looked at him, his wand held out for her to take, and back up at him again over and over for a very long moment. What was showing him her Patronus going to prove? She was a little worried – she hadn't conjured a Patronus in nearly seventeen years, and wasn't sure if she still had it in her to.

But, he obviously wasn't going to be satisfied until he saw it, so slowly and cautiously she reached out and took his wand.

He stepped back and folded his arms over his chest as Lily examined the wand in her hand. It was very nice, but not very well looked after. There were fingerprints and smudges all over it, showing that he clearly didn't polish it or anything.

She smiled. So much like his father.

_Okay, Lily, here we go_. She thought, closing her eyes and searching for a memory. She felt the heavy gaze of him on her, but pushed away the pressure and nerves. It wouldn't benefit her to loose focus and mess up, not when she was so close to finally convincing him.

Harry just watched her think, wondering how on earth it was he was actually able to act calm about any of this and at the same time, wondering what happy memory she was calling upon. It was a very nice sight to see his mother standing before him, a wand in her hand. She looked very at home, yet strangely uncomfortable. Perhaps it was because she wasn't holding _her_ wand. Harry knew from experience that if just didn't felt right somehow to use someone else's wand. It was like an invasion of privacy somehow; a violation.

After a moment, she opened her eyes and stood up straight and squared her shoulder, wand at the ready. "_Expecto Patronum_!"

Although her voice had boomed with confidence, all that came out of the wand was a slither of silvery fog.

"Argh, bastard.' She muttered angrily, jerking the wand upward with a flick to remove the fog.

Harry blinked, feeling it odd to hear such a profanity come out of her mouth. He hadn't ever expected his mother to be a prude, but he still wasn't expecting that either.

She smiled up at him apologetically. "Sorry – it's been a while."

"Well, hey, if you can't do it…"

"I can do it." She retorted defiantly.

_You cheeky little sod. I'll show you who's sitting on the throne in this family_. She thought, thinking back throughout her history. What had ever made her deliriously happy? Her first thought was of James, the day of their wedding. That day had been the happiest of her life, and she could still hear the chatter of their guests, that ridiculous speech Sirius gave at dinner, the smell of James's aftershave as they danced their first dance, the feel of his robes and hair. But, thinking of James lately brought sadness to her heart.

She looked up at Harry, and remembered the day he was born. How he was so small and perfect, not a blemish on his little body. How he had held the tip of her finger with the whole of his hand, and James and put his arm around Lily, and there had been no-one else in the world but her and her two boys. Her, James, and the perfect little angel they had created together.

She smirked. "_Expecto Patronum_!"

And out of the tip of the wand, burst a massive, silver swan.

Although he had been 99 percent sure, seeing the explosion of light and the form it took had a strange effect on Harry. It was like that split second moment of completely silence when a nuclear bomb goes off before the sound hits you. Harry couldn't feel anything. He couldn't say anything or even hear anything; it was as if the world had been hit with a giant mute button.

All he could do was watch.

It was as he had imagined it just that morning. The massive swan flew around them, leaving a trail of blazing light in its wake. The power from it ruffled Harry's hair and sent Lily's blowing out behind her. Her face was illuminated in silver, making every feature blur together except for her eyes, which stood out in a brilliant shade of green. She was grinning happily, almost laughing at her success.

And then, it was all over.

The light disappeared almost as quickly as it had come, throwing the room back into semi-darkness again. The volume was turned back up, and Harry suddenly realized that he hadn't been breathing.

Lily sighed happily. "Ha, how's _that_! I didn't think I'd be able to do that ever again!' she laughed. But the smile was wiped off her face as soon as she saw Harry looking into space in shock, white as a sheet and gasping for breath. 'Harry? Harry, look at me! _Harry_!"

Harry dropped to his knees in front of her. Lily threw his wand aside and knelt down in front of him, grabbing him by the arms and trying to get him to look up at her.

"Harry, its alright sweetheart. Harry, _breathe_!' she whispered, pressing her temple against the wire of his glasses.

He felt as if his heart was going to explode. She was really there, she was touching him, he could actually hear her whisper in his ear, feel her hands on his shoulders, smell her perfume…

"It's alright honey,' she was whispering, rubbing his shoulders and back to try and calm him. 'Just try and relax. Deep breaths now."

Harry swallowed hard and looked up at her properly, seeing her up close. It wasn't the first time he'd snuck a peek at her this closely, but it was still mind numbing.

"It's…its true, then?' he muttered.

Lily smiled and let out a laugh. "Yes, it's true. It's me, Harry."

Harry choked out a half laugh, half sob. "I…I just…it's just so hard to believe."

"You _still_ don't believe me?"

"No, I do!' he chuckled. 'I actually do. I must be totally out of my mind, but I do."

Lily smiled, took his face in her hands and gave him a long, firm kiss on the forehead...right on his scar. His whole body felt alive and alert, as if there was a low current of electricity thrumming through him. It seemed inappropriate somehow to hold her, yet it was all he wanted to do. Hold her and never let her go again.

He reached up slowly and ran a finger down her cheek. Seeing her, touching her, being in the same room with her was something he'd dreamt of for so long it blurred the lines between want and need.

"I'd thought of a million things I wanted to say to you if I ever got a chance to see you again,' he said softly, running a few strands of blood red hair through his fingers 'but now I cant think of a single one."

Lily smiled and took his hands in hers. "Well, we've got heaps of time for your articulation to come back to you."

Harry sighed and returned her smile. He hadn't thought about her sticking around for some reason. But, now that the initial shock of everything was wearing off, a strange sort of intense, protective feeling settled over him. It was amazing that his opinions of her could change so dramatically in such a sort amount of time.

"How…how are you here?' he asked, putting a flicker of reality into the glorious dream. 'I don't understand how this can be happening. I mean…you died. You _died_."

"I know.' She said, nodding. 'I know. I remember that."

Harry sat up a little, his knees aching on the hard floor. "You do?"

"Yes. I remember standing in front of your crib, standing between you and Him, and then there was this flash of green light, and then…' she stopped and looked into space with a slight frown. 'And then there was nothing."

"But if you died, how can you…"

Lily laughed and shook her head. "Harry, this is not the sort of conversation one has sitting on dusty old floorboards. Do you have anything to drink?"

"I have Firewhiskey."

"Yes, so I see.' She giggled, taking in a whiff of his breath. 'I think you've had enough alcohol for one decade. Come on, on your feet."

Harry grunted as she helped him up, becoming acutely aware of just how drunk he really was. The room was spinning again, and he felt very lightheaded now his adrenaline levels were coming back down. He put a hand to his head and clamped his eyes shut; letting her guide him toward the door with her hands on his shoulders.

"You know, I'm not always like this.' he chuckled, giving her a look.

"What, totally mental?"

"No, sloshed."

Lily smiled, picked up his wand and opened the door for him. "I'll not let this past week's behaviour influence my opinion of your ability to cope with stress, how about that?"

Harry stopped her just before they exited the room. "I'm sorry I tied you to the bed, and interrogated you, and fed you like a baby."

"Apology accepted. Now come on, you need hot chocolate and I need orange juice."

* * *

A/N – We'll get into explanations (finally!) in the next chapter! Hopefully you're all not sick of waiting for it yet!

Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7! Bum bum buuuuuuuuuuuum!

* * *

"So, this is the dining room. The kitchen's through that door over there."

Lily slipped her hands in his back pockets as she let out a whistle of wonder. "Geez, Harry, could it be any bigger?'

Harry snorted and pulled out a chair for her at the table. "What can I say? We like the simple life."

"You know, if this was the house of anyone else I'd say they were trying to compensate for something, if you get my drift.' She grinned, elbowing him playfully as she sat down.

Harry blushed and softly rubbed his ribs where she had elbowed him. He looked down at her in wonder for a moment, before shaking himself back into reality.

"So, er, you still want that orange juice?"

"As always. There's never a bad time for juice.' She said, still looking around the room.

Harry took another moment to look at her, before he rushed off to the kitchen.

He searched the cupboards frantically, trying to find two more clean glasses. He found some in the top cupboard above the stove and reached for them, but in his eagerness knocked one of them to the floor where it smashed.

"Ah, bugger!" he cried, jumping back.

"Harry, you alright?" she called.

Harry swallowed and pulled his wand out. "Yeah, I'm fine!' he called, then muttered to himself 'Just a drunk, clumsy git. _Repairo_."

He poured her an orange juice and an apple juice for himself. Personally, he'd always been more partial to apple. Taking deep breaths to try and stop his hands from shaking like maracas, he took the glasses and slowly made his way back out into the dining room.

"Mmm, thank you.' Said Lily, seizing up the glass as soon as Harry put it in front of her.

Harry sat down heavily beside her, feeling his head throb. "Urgh, I'm never drinking again.'

Lily laughed into her glass. "Your first time?"

Harry mumbled something incoherent, but Lily guessed it meant yes by the way he was holding his head.

"For a mum, you're taking this awfully well.' Said Harry, looking at her with hazy eyes.

"Well, you've been through a bit of stress. I can understand.' She said, patting his knee soothingly. 'How did you think I was going to take it?"

"I figured you'd be disappointed.' He muttered. 'Kind of the reason why I was apprehensive of coming to see you just now."

"Apprehensive? Why?"

Harry smiled. "I don't know, you know, just in case you thought I was a drunk or a lunatic… or a drunk lunatic."

Lily laughed. "Here, give me your wand. I can't stand it any longer…you look too pathetic."

He handed over his wand slowly, curious as to what she was going to do. She thought for a moment, obviously trying to remember a spell, before pointing his own wand right between his eyes.

"_Sobertus_."

Instantly, the throbbing slipped away like water down a drain. Harry blinked; his eyes no longer sensitive to the light and smiled. "Oh, _thank_ you. Where'd you learn that?"

"The amount of times James and Sirius came home blind drunk from The Three Broomsticks? Puh-_lease_.' She laughed, taking another mouthful of her juice.

Harry smiled and looked at her again. He figured he would be stealing glances at her from now on at every opportunity he got, just to try and convince himself that she was really there with him, flesh and blood.

"You're really real.' He muttered, sitting forward. 'I mean, you're not a very solid ghost, or an Inferni with an incredible plastic surgeon?"

"No, I'm as real as you are and twice as pretty."

"But I just…' he stopped and rubbed his eyes. 'I just don't understand how any of this is _possible_. No spells can raise the dead, Dumbledore has told me over and over a million times. And a bloke like Dumbledore was not one to be wrong about something so important."

Lily shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. "No, he certainly isn't.' she agreed. 'And in all honesty, I have no clue how I can be here anymore than you do."

"So, what, you just appeared on my doorstep one day after sixteen years?' he asked. 'You just died and then came back like nothing happened?"

"No, I didn't come back just last week.' She said slowly. 'Harry…I've been in London for just over a year."

Harry's eyes widened. "A _year_? You've been alive for a whole year and you only come to me _now_?"

He knew he shouldn't have shouted, but he was feeling very offended. Why had she waited so long to come back to him? Why, if she loved him so much, hadn't she come to take him away from the Dursely's earlier, or written to him, or tried to make contact with him?

Lily sighed. "No, Harry, you don't understand.' She said softly, apparently not offended by his outburst.

"Explain it to me then."

She surveyed him for a long moment, before raising her eyebrows and putting her glass up on the table. "The first thing I remember after the darkness of that Halloween night, is waking up in the middle of a street in downtown London at two AM in the morning after just narrowly being swerved around by a fossilized Morris Minor. When I woke up, the only thing that made sense to me was one thing; my name. That's all I knew, and that's all I remembered. _Lily_. Whoever brought me back dumped me in the middle of the street with no memories at all."

Harry blinked, understanding. "Oh, right."

Lily smiled. "Yes. But, as fate would seem to have it, the chap who nearly ran me over was a doctor who worked at the nearby Rehab centre, and he'd been on his way home from the last shift when he ran across me – no pun intended. So, taking me for some lunatic amnesia patient without any road sense, he took me up to the centre and made sure I had a place to stay for a while. He was a very nice man, too. Such a shame he was married…I would have flirted with him a little more."

"Okay, over-share. Stick to the story, will you?"

"Oh alright. Anyway, they took me into this Rehab centre and helped me get back on my feet one day at a time. I tell you, there's nothing as frustrating as not being able to remember who you are and where you came from. I spent hours and hours and hours just sitting in my room, staring off into space and wondering who I was, where my family was, what my parents looked like, if I had any children, if I had a husband…"

Harry noticed that in this pause, she ran her index finger of the ringless finger of her left hand.

"But, soon enough, things started to come back to me. At first, it was in dreams. I'd see faces of people and not be able to put names to them. I'd see places and things and wonder why they gave me feelings of joy or sadness or anger. Then, after about a week I could remember my last name, and who my parents were and so on."

"What was it like to remember you were a witch?" asked Harry with a grin.

Lily laughed. "Oh, Jesus in heaven, it was as much of a relief then as it was when I was eleven and got my letter from Hogwarts! The amount of windows I broke and people's hair I turned bright orange while there…it was a wonder they didn't cart me off to the loony bin. I could never understand why, until the day I finally remembered about Hogwarts. I nearly died from relief."

"What about…me? Me and dad?"

"You were the last person that came back to me. I remembered James first because I went to school with him. I remembered how infuriating he was, him and Sirius and Remus and Peter. My memories unfolded as if I were living them; all in order of occurrence. You were near the end, because you were the most recent."

"And Voldemort." Muttered Harry angrily.

Lily looked at him in interest, before nodding. "Yes, and Voldemort. Although I would much rather forget him."

"Wouldn't we all?"

"It had all come back to me after about two months, my past and all the things it contained.' She continued. 'And all I wanted to do was get to you. To see you. Be with you. But I knew I couldn't then; not until I'd sorted my life out again and could be a good mother to you."

"So what have you been doing for eight months, then?"

"Working,' she smiled, taking another sip of her juice. 'Finding a balance in my life again. I'd never worked in the muggle world before, and it was very difficult to find someone who would employ a woman with no bank account, no references, no experiences and who was, by all legal standards, stone cold dead. But, I eventually got work in this little restaurant just outside town and I've been there ever since."

Harry nodded, trying to process all this information. She had this completely separate life from him now. Would she even want to come back into the magical world now that she was so secure in her new lifestyle? Would she expect him to go with her? Was it wrong of him to want her to stay with him?

"That still doesn't explain how you're here.' He said. 'If I've been told once, I've been told a thousand times, _there is no spell to bring back the dead_."

Lily nodded. "Yes, and I don't know how I'm here anymore than you do. I've been hoping that I'd get some sort of memory of how this happened, but it's been just over a year now, and all my other memories have come back to me…' she trailed off and shrugged. 'Maybe we're not meant to know."

"Well I don't care if we're meant to or not; I bloody well want to know who to send the thank you note to."

"This is a lot to take in, I know.' She said softly, seeing his expression. 'This must all be a little unusual for you, huh?"

Harry sniffed in amusement. "Because my live wasn't weird enough already."

"I don't want to make things complicated for you, Harry."

"No, you won't! I mean, you don't. Not anymore at least; now that I know who you really are. It was not knowing that was making me insane.' He said, ruffling his hair. 'And er, just for the record…I'm really not such a Nazi to unexpected house guests."

Lily laughed. "Water under the bridge. I was very proud of the way you handled it actually."

"You were?"

"Oh yeah! With that mettle and attitude, you'd make a fine Auror."

Harry blinked. "The last person who told me that was a Death Eater in disguise."

The looked at each other for a long moment…before they burst out laughing.

"You sound a bit like Mad-eye Moody. You heard of him?" she giggled.

Harry smirked. "Yeah, funnily enough I have."

"Best Auror I think I've ever worked with – besides Kingsley of course He always reminded me of Yul Brynner for some reason. Anyway, completely mental he was, Moody, but there's a fine line between insanity and brilliance.' She said, downing the rest of her juice. She let out a satisfied 'Ah' and smacked her lips, before looking at Harry and sobering up a little. 'So, since we're on the topic…how _did_ you figure out who I really was? Was it just the Patronus?"

"Er, no, not exactly.' Said Harry, going a little red. He got up to fetch the hospital letter from the other side of the table, sat himself back down beside her and handed it to her.

Lily gave him a curious look, before reading over the letter as Ginny had done just half an hour ago.

She looked up at him, somewhat in awe. "You did a DNA test?"

"Well, yeah. It was the only sure way I could think of at the time that didn't involve magic or giving you a wand."

Lily let out a laugh and looked down at the letter again.

Harry bit his lip. "You mad?"

"Quite the opposite, actually.' She said, handing him back the letter. 'I am very impressed!"

"You are?' he laughed in disbelief. 'You're either easily pleased or a complete sadist."

She laughed. "No, it was a good idea. I don't know why I didn't suggest it to you, actually. DNA testing is far more foolproof than Veritaserum sometimes."

"Well, I'm just smart like that." He said.

"Must be.' She laughed. 'But where did you get a sample of my blood from?"

Harry blushed and hid his face behind his glass for a moment as he took a quick sip of his juice. "Well, er…I actually nicked one of your hairs one night while you were sleeping. You were having some sort of nightmare I think, cause…because you kept calling out for dad."

Lily rubbed her head at the part of her hair. "I remember that. You woke me up."

"I didn't mean to."

"You must have skipped out of there pretty quick,' she said 'because I didn't see you."

"You, you wouldn't. I was under the cloak."

"Cloak?' she asked. And then her eyes widened. 'Oh, the _Invisibility_ Cloak, of course. You got that back from Dumbledore, then?"

Harry smiled. "My first ever Christmas present."

Lily's eyebrows arched.

"Oh, at Hogwarts that is." He said quickly, giving her a smile.

"I can't believe I missed your first day at Hogwarts. What house were you sorted into?"

"Gryffindor."

"Ah, fabulous.' She sighed, shaking her head. 'I've missed everything! The day you started walking, your first day at Hogwarts, the day you got those glasses…'

Harry smiled. "Don't worry; there'll be a lot more first times for you to hear about."

"There had better be.' She said. She looked around and smiled. 'At least I didn't miss your first house. How, may I ask, did you afford something like this if you didn't dip into your inheritance?"

Harry hesitated. Like the deal with the cloak, he didn't feel it very fair to offload all the tragedies that had happened to her in all one go. Telling her that Sirius and Dumbledore were dead, Peter Pettigrew had betrayed them to Voldemort, there was a war going on and Harry was the 'Chosen one' or 'Boy Who Lived' or prophesied to bring balance back to the force or whatnot was surely going to make her head spin.

"Well, actually…Sirius gave it to me." He said.

It wasn't a total lie.

"Sirius gave you a _house_?' she asked, her eyes wide in amazement. 'What a lunatic! This definitely fills his monthly quota of Godfatherly duties! Buying you a house indeed!"

Harry shrugged and kept silent.

Lily propped her chin up in the heel of her hand and smiled dreamily off into space. "It'll be nice to see Sirius and the others again."

"Yeah,' said Harry, looking down at his feet. 'It would be good to see him again."

"I don't suppose I'll be able to see anyone anytime soon, will I?' she said. It wasn't a question.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, people will most likely have the same reaction you did and try to curse me or something.' She chuckled. 'And being attacked is not something I'm keen to experience any time soon. And _especially_ not without any way to protect myself."

Harry rubbed the back his neck. "Any way we could get you another wand?"

Lily blew air out through her lips and shrugged. "I don't know. I really liked my old wand – it'd seem strange with a new one.' She went quiet for a moment, apparently lost in thought, before she looked at Harry and smiled. 'But, I don't want to talk about that now. Tell me all about _you_! What has my only son and heir to the Marauder Throne been up to all these years?"

Harry laughed and adjusted his glasses on his nose, something he usually did when he felt a little under pressure. "Oh, you know…not all that much."

_Really,_ he thought, _reality and truth could wait until tomorrow._

---------------

Lily tried as hard as she could not to blink, afraid that if she did the boy in front of her would disappear. Afraid that if she did she would wake up in her bed back at the Rehab Centre and realize that it had all just been a dream.

Over the course of their five hour conversation that had taken them into the wee hours of the morning, they had moved from the dining room, to the sofa in the living room, to the window seat, to lying on the floor sprawled out on their back, and back to the sofa once more. Now, his head was resting in her lap as he snored lightly, his glasses sitting on the couch beside them as Lily ran her fingers through his unruly mop of hair.

She let her gaze run over every feature of his face as he slept, smiling to herself at just how much he resembled his father. The same cheekbones, the same dimples, the same little dainty earlobes, the same jaw line…it was uncanny, like looking at a ghost. But she knew that even with these similarities, there would be no way possible she was going to mix the two of them up.

Lily blinked away her own fatigue, the monotone of the clock ticking over the fireplace hypnotizing her. She didn't want to fall asleep. She wanted to memorize this moment into her mind forever; the memory of her grown son holding her after so long apart.

She remembered, years ago, laying him in her lap like this as a baby, his green eyes looking around in wonder at his new world and his hand tightly holding onto Lily's finger. She would sometimes stare at him for hours, quite unable to believe that she had given life to this beautiful angel. That after nine months of morning sickness and sore boobs and a craving for sardines and avocados, it had all been worth it to get something so perfect out of it. Seventeen years had not changed her opinion of him at all. He was still beautiful, still hers, and still as captivating as he had ever been.

It saddened her somewhat that she had missed out on so much of his life. This she had always imagined experiencing with him; like his first hair cut (Lord knows he could do with one), loosing his first tooth, the day his voice broke, the day he started shaving, his first girlfriend... so much she had missed.

Lily ran her hand over his broad shoulder and along his back, scratching his shoulder blades affectionately. When she'd first had him, she'd always wondered what he would be like at the age he was now. He hadn't turned out quite like she had expected, but that wasn't at all a bad thing. He was, if anything, more confident and strong that she had hoped for. And again, she wondered who had instilled such qualities in him? Had it been someone at school? A teacher? Had it been (however unlikely) Petunia? She wanted to know the answer to this and so many other questions, but he seemed reluctant to tell her anything solid. She'd been told many things, but it had been more like reading facts out of a textbook rather than a life story. It had seemed so…impersonal, as if he were afraid to reveal something that might upset her. All she had learned from him was that he was a Gryffindor, played Seeker on the house team (something James would have had a stroke over, he would have been that happy), his favorite subject was Defense Against the Dark Arts, his worst enemy was someone called Draco Malfoy and he had been sent to live with her sister and her atrocious husband after that horrible night when Voldemort had attacked.

She knew there was much more going on that he was fessing up to, but she didn't feel it right to pry. He probably thought he was doing her a favor by giving her all the bad news at a slow pace. And while she felt a little offended by the patronizing of a boy more than half her age, let alone her own son, she decided to play it his way for the time being. After all, how bad could it be anyway? It was probably just normal, teenage drama.

It wouldn't do to get into a fight only on their first day.

Lily ran her hands softly over the bare skin of his exposed forearm, feeling the lean muscles underneath. He was in good shape, if not a little underfed. But she couldn't understand why his clothes swam on him so much. Didn't he even know his own clothes size? And how could Petunia let him walk around in such decrepit clothing? They looked like something out of the homeless bins.

_I'll have to do something about that_, she thought, plucking a thread out of the sleeve of his shirt.

She liked his hands for some reason. His long, elegant fingers were like hers in a way, and she knew they'd be very good for catching the snitch at the end of a game. He must have had a habit of biting his nails because they were very short and grotty. She linked her fingers through his, running her thumb across the back of his hand softly. The back of his hand looked a little red.

And as she had a better look, she frowned. Was that _writing_ on his hand?

Careful not to wake him, she lifted his hand up to her face to get a better look. Indeed, now that she could see better, there was words there. Written like red biro on parchment, there was the most peculiar sentence.

_I must not tell lies. _

Lily frowned. These words weren't written with ink – they were _scars_. Wounds that had healed over after being cut into the skin perhaps multiple times. Just the thought of something slicing open his skin made her skin crawl and her blood boil. Had he done this _himself_?

Lily jumped as Harry jerked and snorted awake. He rolled his head around dopily and blinked his eyes open.

Looking at her for a long moment, he smiled. "You're still here?"

"Yes, I'm still here."

Harry yawned. "I th-th-thought you might be another of my dreams."

Lily pinched him in the arm.

"Ow! What was _that_ for?"

"Did it hurt?"

"Yes!"

"Then you're not dreaming. Here are your glasses."

Harry took them and sat up with a grumble. "Gee, thanks, I'm sure they'll be good compensation for the big whopping bruise I'll have on my arm by tomorrow."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Shall I fetch your tiara now, my Drama Queen?"

"Sure. You'll find it next to my throne and behind my Royal Bominocker."

"Okay,' she yawned, stretching. 'That's enough sarcasm. We don't want it to get old."

Harry watched her stretch sheepishly. "Sorry, you know…for falling asleep on you."

"Wouldn't be the first time.' She smiled, giving him a playful punch on the knee. 'And I'm pleased to see that you no longer drool in your sleep. Well done on that front."

He smiled as she began fussing over her hair. It really was like something out of a dream; waking up and finding her still there. For six glorious hours, he'd been able to forget about the war and about Voldemort and about the Horcruxes, and just enjoy the fact that he had a mother. Not a surrogate mother like Mrs. Weasley, but a real mother. Someone who could be just his; someone he wouldn't have to share with anyone.

"So, what do you want to do today?' he asked.

Lily scratched her nose. "Well, I think I might need to pop into work and let them know I'm still alive."

Harry's eyes widened. "Oh, bloody hell, will I have gotten you fired?"

"No, of course not!' she laughed, taking his worried face in her hands and tapping his cheeks playfully. 'In anticipation of your calm, collected attitude to my sudden reappearance, I told them I needed at least a week of work and they granted it too me. I'm sure they'll be anxious to meet you too, considering you're all I ever talk about."

"I…I am?"

Lily got to her feet and smiled down at him. "Does it really surprise you? I'm sure you get people talking about you all the time."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, I get that sometimes."

"But, we are not going anywhere for two very important reasons.' She said. 'Firstly, I haven't had any juice yet.'

"And second?"

"And second, it's three in the sodding morning.' She laughed, slapping his knees as she walked past him. 'So get up and show me the rest of the house, kiddo, we have hours to burn."

Harry smiled, and he rushed after her.

* * *

A/N – I know there wasn't really an explanation in there, but I promise you _will_ get one! It has to unfold with the story first! What are you all thinking of Lily? Am I telling her okay?

Please review!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8!

* * *

Harry stepped around another trash can as he followed Lily up the large alleyway between a café and the large butcher shop, his sneakers splashing in various puddles and soaking the hem of his jeans.

"Erm, so, just a quick question,' he said, jumping as a cat screeched and ran out in front of him. 'Why couldn't we do the normal thing and go in the front way to your apartment?"

Lily laughed and stopped at a metal staircase. 'Since when have we ever come under the category of 'normal'? Was it when we discovered we could turn pin cushions into porcupines, or when we learned how to fly on broomsticks and use fireplaces to get from one place to another?"

"Santa uses fireplaces and no-one thinks _that's_ weird.' Said Harry.

"Yeah, but where do you think he got the idea from?' she said, giving him a smile over her shoulder as she began to climb the staircase. 'He's a dirty, rotten copy-cat, that's what he is."

Harry blinked, not all together sure if she was joking or not.

The metal staircase, normally used for a fire escape, let them up the side of the two story building to the second floor. Looking back down the alley in the direction they had come, Harry watched as London rolled by in a hustle of everyday life as he climbed; it was completely unaware still of just what was happening right before their eyes.

"I still can't believe you live right above the café you work at.' He said, stopping on the step below hers so she could get her keys out. 'How are you ever meant to be fashionably late to work? Or fake a sicky?"

"With great difficulty, I assure you.' She unlocked the door with a happy sigh and stepped aside to allow him entry. 'Welcome to the outhouse. Please put your tray tables in the upright position and watch your step."

Harry ducked under the low doorway and righted up once over the threshold to see a small apartment laid out in front of him. It was very clean, not overly furnished but still comfortable, and probably the size of the entire Weasley's living room and kitchen put together. A counter was all that separated the kitchen from the living room, and there was a small hallway which must have concealed the bathroom and bedroom.

"I er, know it's not that much,' she muttered behind him, slipping her hands in her back pockets. 'Nothing special compared to what you've been living in for the past few years, but I couldn't afford my own place, and no-one was going to give me a lease without any identification."

Harry smiled at her. "Not embarrassed, are you?"

"I am most certainly _not_ embarrassed.' She said defensively, shoving him playfully as she passed him. 'Its just…very different from our old house, is all."

"I'll have to take your word for that.' He muttered, looking around a little more.

Lily went about, fussing over the tiniest little things that must have been a routine for her to do whenever she came back home. She'd unlocked the other door that led out to the hallway, switched on the fans, took off her jacket and went into the kitchen for something to eat.

"Do you want something?' she said, opening the fridge door to investigate. 'I don't know what you're into…and there's no way you're having anymore beer.'

Harry blinked and sat down at the bench. "You have beer?"

She straightened up and smiled. "Only a few bottles. I like a bit of Heineken once in a while."

"I never thought you'd be into beer.' He said, taking the bottle of coke she offered him.

Lily smiled and leant against the bench, cracking open the little bottle of orange juice in her hand. "I wasn't until recently. Or, you know, not recently…' she paused and look confused for a moment, before shaking her head. 'You know what I mean. Sirius got James onto it and James got me onto it. Oh, no, don't look like that! Your father wasn't just some bum who sat around the house drinking beer all the time! No, don't ever think that! Just every Sunday dinner he liked a beer with his drink. Only one or two."

"It's just…interesting, you know?' he smiled, fingering his bottle absentmindedly. 'You and dad have always been these sort of imaginary people who were into what _I_ imagined you to be into, and spoke how _I_ imagined you to speak. Seeing you now, seeing that you're into beer and orange juice and have this crazy obsession with ABBA is just so…surreal."

"Am I worse than you imagined?' she asked.

Harry smiled. "No, you're better."

Lily laughed and tapped his cheek. "You're sweet. Makes me glad that I missed your terrible two's."

"I wasn't so terrible then."

"Oh, I'm betting you were. Petunia could tell me all about it, I'm sure.' she said with a grin.

Harry exhaled slowly and watched her drink. It were simple little things like how she ate or how she slept or the way her dimples came out to play when she laughed that seemed to grab his attention. While he was now getting used to the idea of her being back, it still seemed like such a dream.

"Do you like it here?" he asked casually.

"Yeah, it's…quaint.' She said, looking around. 'It just doesn't have that homely feel to it if you know what I mean. I've tried to personalize it a bit, but there's only so much you can do with an old office slash store room slash impromptu shag centre."

Harry smiled. "I want you to move in with me."

Lily blinked and looked back at him. "_What_?"

"Well, I certainly don't want to have to come all the way across town every time I want to see you, and you don't want to live up here anymore and have to pay rent. There's plenty of room back at Grimmauld Place if you're worried about privacy, and in all honesty…I'd like to have you there."

"Oh, Harry, this is all just so _sudden_.' She said dramatically, putting a hand to her cheek. 'We've only known each other for a few days after all; I don't know if I'm ready to make such a commitment like this!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Lily, I'm being serious."

Lily snorted. "Yes, I know; you had me back at 'do you like it here'. And yes, I will move in with you."

He grinned happily, and Lily remembered all the reasons she'd ever wanted children. And while it hurt a little that he wasn't calling her 'mum' yet, it was alright; she knew he would in his own good time. He just needed to get used to the fact that he actually _had_ a mother now before he could learn how to be around one of his own.

"I'll just go pack what little possessions I have, shall I?" she said.

"You want a hand?' he offered, getting up to follow her.

"No, not at all. You just relax and make yourself at home.' She called, running out of the room toward her room.

Harry sighed and got up to walk around. Everything in the flat looked second hand or antique, and it was clear that most of her furniture had been given to her to borrow temporarily until she could afford her own stuff. There were bean bags instead of chairs, there was the oldest television with a cracked frame and old curtains that looked as though they should have been into play clothes for the Von Trap children. The floorboards creaked loudly underfoot, and the sounds of muffled chatter and clinking plates could be heard from the Café beneath them.

Some photo frames on the windowsill caught his eye, and Harry went over to have a closer look. There were only five of them all in a row, held in frames of different sizes and styles. In one of the larger ones, Lily was in the middle of a group of smiling and laughing people dressed in nurses' uniforms, and Harry guessed it must have been taken out in the gardens of the rehabilitation centre she stayed at. Another was her out the front of the café downstairs, her arms around a tall blonde young man and another lady with short blonde hair. It was a weird feeling to see his mother with friends he didn't know, a job he'd never seen her get and a life he'd never seen her build.

"Who the hell are _YOU_?"

Harry jumped, almost dropping the photo and spun around to see a woman standing in the doorway, keys in her hand and a very angry expression on her face.

"Oh, er…' he stuttered, not knowing what to say.

"Don't play the stupid card with my young man. I'm a mother; I've seen all the routines you can think of!" she shouted, taking another step toward him. 'Now whatever you think you're going to steal, you can just think again because I have a shotgun downstairs and I can get it quick as a flash if I need be."

"Oh, no, I'm not a burglar.' Said Harry quickly, holding his hands up defensively.

The woman smiled bitterly. "Oh yes, I'm sure, you're just sleepwalking right?"

"No, it's just…

"Nora, no!' shouted Lily, suddenly running into the room with a towel flung over her shoulder. She placed herself in front of Harry and smiled. 'Just calm down, he's with me."

The woman Nora relaxed instantly upon seeing Lily. "He's with you, you say? Lily, I don't understand…'

Lily smiled, grabbed Harry's hand and brought him forward. "Nora, his is my son, Harry. Harry, this is my boss Nora. She runs the café downstairs."

Nora smiled and threw her hands up on relief. "Jesus _Christ_, Lily, cant you ever do anything the conventional way? Especially introductions!' she rushed forward and seized Harry's hand. 'So sorry about the mix up, Harry. It's nice to finally meet you at last."

"Yeah, you too." He chuckled. Seeing her smile switched his memory into gear, and he now recognized her for the blonde woman who had been in the photo with his mother he had just been looking at.

"How did you know we were up here anyway?" asked Lily.

"The floorboards were creaking, and I was thinking it was you and was ready to come in here and give you a good ear-bashing for not coming in to see me first…'

"I would have come in the front way but I didn't want to have to put up with the crowd and get talking to everyone and have to go through a million introductions.' Said Lily, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Nora. 'I just wanted to show Harry the place."

Nora put her hands on her hips and sighed happily, looking between Lily and Harry with a grin. "I still can't believe you actually have a _son_, Lily! Do you have any others?"

Lily shook her head. "No, sadly, I never got the chance."

"You wanted more kids?' he asked quietly.

"Oh yeah, at least four."

Harry smiled, amusing himself with the thought of himself being the oldest of four, growing his hair long like Bill and being the 'cool big brother' to all the others. It was something he'd never considered before.

Lily cleared her throat and rubbed her hands together. "Listen, honey, why don't you go pack the rest of my stuff for me while I have a quick chat with Nora."

Harry rolled his eyes and backed his way out of the room. "If you want me gone, all you have to do is say so. I understand the need for adult private time." He said.

Lily watched him go with a small smile and, once he was out of earshot, Nora laughed and hopped up onto the bench top.

"He seems like a good kid." She said conversationally.

"Oh, he's one of the best.' Said Lily. 'I can't believe how well he's turned out."

"I bet he was a bit freaked out when you showed up, huh?"

Lily smiled and ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah, a little."

"Still, I can't say he looks all that much like you.' Said Nora, looking thoughtful. 'He's got those massive, catlike eyes of yours though."

"He's very much the image of his father, physically speaking.' Said Lily. 'Not so much in personality though. He's not as boisterous and loud as James used to be."

Nora laughed. "Oh dear, he's totally won you over, hasn't he?"

"Since the day he was born.' Grinned Lily.

"Well, he's your son. It's a given that you'd totally fawn over him. And I get that you've taken a whole week of to do so, but what's all this talk of packing?' asked Nora. 'Are you moving out?"

Lily nodded. "It's just better this way. Harry has all the room he could ever possibly want at his place, and…well, he wants me there. And I want to be there with him. Besides,' she said, nudging Nora with her elbow. 'I think I've long outstayed my welcome up here. It was always only meant to be a temporary thing anyway."

"Yeah, but still, you were just going to leave without saying anything!' laughed Nora, hopping down from the bench. 'My best employee, buggering off without one word of notice."

"Oh please, you dramatize more than Julia Roberts. It's not like I'm giving you my two weeks notice; I'm just giving you back your office space."

"Slash store room.' Smiled Nora.

"Slash impromptu shag centre."

"Well, when you put it like _that_…" laughed Nora.

Lily snorted and rolled her eyes just as Harry came back into the room, two large duffel bags slung over each shoulder.

"So, madam, where to now?" he asked.

"Home, James." She said pompously.

Harry blinked, and Lily sighed.

"That joke used to work so much better with your father."

"Look, I've got to get back downstairs.' Said Nora, heading back to the front door. 'I've left Donnie and Mason down there alone together, and you know how they get when fried foods get involved."

Lily cringed and laughed. "Blimey, you'd better get back then. I'll see you next Wednesday afternoon then."

Nora smiled and embraced Lily. "Yes indeed. Nice to meet you Harry, and sorry again for the shotgun comment."

"No problem,' he said, waving a hand dismissively. 'Happens all the time."

Once she was gone, shutting the door behind her, Harry immediately dropped the bags to the floor, pulled his wand out of his back pocket and shrunk them down.

"What was that for?" asked Lily.

"I hope you didn't think I was carrying them all the way home like that.' Said Harry, picking up the tiny bags and holding them out for her. 'Bellboy isn't on my list of future career aspects."

Lily sighed and put the little bags in her pocket. 'You're just lazy."

"No, I'm a wizard.' He said. 'Look, speaking of which…I really don't like the thought of you walking around without a wand during times like this."

"No, I feel a little vulnerable without one actually.' She admitted softly. 'So, we could make a quick stop off at Diagon Alley, is that what you're thinking? Pay Mr. Olivander a visit?"

"Er, actually, that's not really an option at the moment.' Said Harry.

"Why not? Look, if you're worried about someone seeing me we can just use the cloak or a glamour or something."

"No, it's not that.' He said. 'Olivander's is closed."

Lily's eyebrows arched. "Closed? How can it be closed? Olivadners is _always_ open! It's like a twenty four hour McDonalds restaurant."

"Well, not anymore its not.'

"What kind of world is this where Olivanders is closed?" she asked rhetorically.

Harry sighed and ruffled his hair, wishing he could explain everything to her. "I was thinking…maybe we could find your old wand. They might have found it in the ruins of the house after you and dad were…well, you know…' he muttered.

"How would we even do that?' she asked. 'Where would we even know where to begin to look?"

"I don't know. Maybe the Ministry would have it or something.' He sighed as he saw her expression, knowing how hopeless a task like this seemed. 'Look, getting you a new wand from this side of the country just isn't an option right now. Don't you remember anything about how this all might have worked?"

Lily crossed over to the small window and looked down at the alley, her expression pensive as the thought for a moment. "I know that you were the sole benefactor of everything we owned, including our wands. I'd suggest that maybe they were locked up at our vault at Gringotts, but you'd have noticed them in there by now.' She rubbed her jaw and chewed on the inside of her cheek. 'Maybe they _are_ still at the house."

"You really think that's possible? After all these years?" he asked.

"Well, sure. Muggles certainly wouldn't have recognized a wand for what it is, and when clean-up crews came they could have simply disregarded it, taking it for a stick or piece of the house or something else. It could still even be there."

"Can you say long-shot?"

"Well, it's a start, isn't it?' she said, looking around at him. 'I can't very well go marching into the Ministry to ask what happened to it, and there will be too many questions if you go in there now without any story as to why you would need something like my wand."

Harry blew air out through his lips. "So, we're going back to Godric's Hollow?"

"Seems that way.' She said, crossing over to him. 'Do you know how to apparate?"

"Yeah, but I don't have my license yet."

Lily frowned. "Bugger. Not that it would matter much anyway – you don't remember anything about our old house or neighbourhood, do you?"

Harry shook his head. "Not in the slightest, sorry."

"No, that's alright, it's not your fault.' She said, giving him a small smile. 'I think I could apparate us there; I think I remember how. It's been a while since I've done it. I just, ironically enough, need a wand."

"You can borrow mine. Again.' He said, holding it out for her.

Lily groaned and took it. "Your wand is too hard. I liked my old wand…nice and flexible. Swishy too…make that whipping noise when I flicked it."

Harry smiled and shook his head.

"Right, let's see…give me your hand. Ooh, your hands a nice a warm. Okay, right here we go – lets just hope I don't splinch us!"

And before Harry could say anything, there was a loud CRACK and they were gone.

-----------------

It was to be one of the saddest sights he had ever seen.

The skies were a gloomy grey when they had appeared at the bottom of the road where their old house lay. It had been a solemn walk for the two of them, like a death march or walk up the aisle at a funeral to see a coffin. Each house they passed, Lily had a story to tell about the families that lived there. Mrs. Johnson and her cats…Mr. Lithgow and his champion roses for the annual flower show…old Mr. Timmins and his loathing of every child within the street…

"Seemed like a good place to live.' Said Harry, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Lily nodded and kept her eyes on the pavement as they walked. "It was; James was hesitant to move to a muggle neighbourhood at the start. He said it would be too boring.' She said with a smile. 'But, I wanted a nice quiet atmosphere to raise our kids, and being the gentleman he was he let me choose."

Harry looked at her. "Do you miss him?"

She was silent for a long moment, before a small sad smile crossed over her beautiful features. "All the time."

Harry, while he had his own mixed ideas of how it was to mourn James Potter, couldn't imagine how it must be for her. To loose your husband, someone you loved so much, must have been earth shattering and heartbreaking. Harry knew he'd be devastated if he lost Ginny like that.

"We're here.' Said Lily suddenly, coming to a stop.

At first, you could see nothing but a very large, overgrown hedge. The fence that ran out of the front of the house that had once had a beautiful, lush green hedge to ensure a little privacy was now brown with age and growing wildly out of control. Separating the brush was a wooden arch that, once upon a time, would have grown vines and burst into flower every season. Through this ran a stone path which, no doubt, led up to the house.

Harry frowned and made his way forward, but stopped when he realized that she wasn't following. He turned back and saw her standing there, stock still with her hands clenching and unclenching nervously at her sides.

"Lily? Are you coming?" he asked softly.

She pursed her lips and looked up at the hedge. "I don't know if I want to."

Harry crossed back over to her, hesitated, then took her hand in his, linking their long fingers together softly. "This is hard for me too. But I think we'll be alright together."

Lily looked up at him and smiled. "Alright then."

Harry went first, brushing the stray twigs and branches aside so they could both make their way through. As he passed through the archway, he felt something ripple through him like a cool breeze.

"Whoa,' he said, looking back with shiver. 'What was that?"

"Part of the wards we sat up when we moved in,' said Lily, passing through the archway without so much as a flinch. 'I can't believe they're still effective. It wouldn't do for all the muggle neighbours to see all the mischief we got up to on a daily basis. The Memory Reversal Squad would've had to set up camp outside of our house otherwise, from all the explosions your father and Sirius would…'

She stopped and put a hand over her mouth, her eyes narrowing in shock.

"Oh my.' She whispered, taking a step around him.

Harry whirled around and felt his stomach plummet. The house which had once been his home, had once been rich and warm and full of light, wasn't even a shadow of that anymore. All the colour had been almost drained out of it, the once vibrant red bricks faded and worn with weather, age, dirt and neglect. All the window panes were cracked of broken, the garden beds underneath them were overrun by weeds, and the front door hung off its hinges, bent and cracked up the middle. The roof had various sized holes in it and roof tiles lay scattered across the lawn. The grass was as tall as their knees and a dry pale yellow like wheat. All manner of flowers were dead and chocked by the surrounding weeds, and Harry was had been sure that seeing this place like this would not hurt as much as it was now. It was so startlingly _real._ That place in his dreams and his imagination was actually real, and it saddened him to see it so decrepit.

But, amongst it all, no feature of the house shook him more than that of a section of the house completely blown out.

Harry took a step forward to stand next to his mother. "That was my room, wasn't it?' he muttered.

Lily nodded, her hand still over her mouth as she just surveyed the house with a hopeless defeat. "I don't believe this."

"Why haven't they just torn it down already?' he asked, taking a few more steps forward.

"Probably because you haven't given permission.' She said, bending down. She picked up a shred of glass from the window, examined it and threw it away carelessly. 'This house it yours, after all. They can't sell the property or tare the house down because it would be illegal for them to do so. This is private property, Harry. This is _your_ property."

Harry clenched his jaw and put his hands on his hips. If had realized this sooner, he would have done something about it. Torn it down, repaired it, sold it… it didn't matter – just something.

Lily darted forward suddenly and ran into the house, the foundations groaning in protest as she knocked the broken door aside.

"Lily, wait!" called Harry, running after her.

He heard her dart up the stairs, but he didn't follow. As soon as he entered the entry hall, he stopped. To his right was the living room. He took a few cautious steps toward it and had a curious look around, taking in the dusty, broken couch, the half-crumbled fireplace, the moth eaten carpet…it was all so tragically sad that Harry didn't quite know what to do or what to think.

He looked at the wall beside him and saw a scorch mark there. There was no mistaking it – it was from a curse. He reached out and softly ran his hand over it. Was this a curse his father had dodged, trying to escape?

The feeling of seeing it all was almost impossible for his mind to fully process. It was like that feeling when you dreamt of meeting a famous movies star you idolized, saw them on TV and knew that they were real and that they existed, but actually seeing them in front of you, being able to touch them, just didn't seem real. It felt as though you were still dreaming, or watching them on TV. That's how it felt for Harry to stand in the living room. Actually stand there, and actually see it.

Not able to take looking at it anymore, Harry turned around and left the living room. He wanted to explore the rest of the house; see what his home had once looked like. Etch every corner and cupboard and bench top and bathroom into his memory. But there would be time for that later. Now, he needed to find his mother.

With one last glance down the hallway where the kitchen and rest of the house was, Harry climbed the staircase to the second floor, each step groaning beneath him with age. The second floor was as big as the first, he concluded quickly. Feeling a breeze ruffle his hair from the left, he walked across the landing until he reached the door at the end.

The door with big, blue letter on it that read: _Harry's Room_.

It was swung inward, it too hanging off its hinges as though someone had beaten past it with a sledgehammer. He ran his fingers over the splintered wood, before looking into the room properly.

As a consequence for the gaping big hole in the wall, it was completely exposed to the elements, and it showed such evidence with the leaves scattered across the floor, the puddles in the corner and various spots of bird droppings on bits of furniture. The room was massive, probably the largest in the house next to the master bedroom. The walls were very dirty, but underneath he could make out the faintest tinge of blue. There was a chest of drawers to his left; the drawers all open with baby clothes hanging out as though they'd just been tossed in there randomly. To his right was a large bookcase filled with not books, but stuffed teddies and little figurines of Quidditch players and even a large stuffed dragon. In the middle of the room lay a cot cracked completely in half, with both halves lying inward against each other and a bundle of bedclothes stuffed in the middle.

And beside the cot, huddled on the floor with a dirty blanket in her hand, sat Lily.

Harry took a step toward her, the wind from outside blowing the leaves silently toward him. "Lily?"

Lily sniffed and looked down at the cot. 'My mother gave me this cot for you at my baby shower. It took a good chunk out of her pay, but she wanted so badly for me to have it. Said it would go with the room…and she was right.' She laughed. 'And these walls…periwinkle blue, they were. James spent a week painting them – by hand! He got more paint on his clothes than he did on the walls in the end, but he had so much fun, making this room up for you…"

She looked away, out through the massive hole in the room.

Harry slowly made his way over and knelt down beside her. He really didn't know what to say. Look at all this, seeing his house where he had been happy, with a family and a normal life, was more of a dream than anything he ever experienced at night. It was like standing in a parallel universe, where he looked down on the ghost of what had been, and what could have been. He had actually slept in this room, eaten in the kitchen, played in the living room, bathed in the bathroom…this had actually, once upon a time, been his home. It was bittersweet, seeing his house made into such a dump. A place that had held a family, a whole family, had become nothing but an empty shell.

"I don't understand,' said Lily suddenly after a long silence. "I just…don't _understand_. How could this have happened?"

"What, the room?"

"Not just the room, but the entire house.' She whispered, looking around sadly.

"Voldemort.' Said Harry angrily. '_He's_ what happened. Everything he touches turns to shite…including people's lives. He's like some sort of disease or cancer; destroying one thing then moving on to another and repeating the process. I don't think I've ever hated him as much as I hate him now."

Lily blinked and looked up at him, looking suddenly curious. "You hate?"

Harry looked away, feeling strangely ashamed of an emotion he'd had no inhibitions about before. "Sometimes."

"But you also love.' She said, cupping his face with her hand and making him look at her. 'Your love far overpowers your hate, doesn't it?" It wasn't a question.

"I…I hope so." He said.

Lily smiled and kissed him on the forehead. She looked around and sighed. "I don't mean to be so distant. Its just… more difficult than I imagined, seeing the house like this. Taking it all in, you know; all that happened to us."

Harry nodded and took another look around. "Yeah, it is for me too."

He just couldn't believe that he had blown out an entire wall and half of the roof of his room. Had the killing curse that bounced off Harry caused all this? It would certainly make Voldemort's near death more intense and painful…it was like a bomb had gone off in there. The wooden frames of the house were scorched as was half the carpet, the walls and the plaster on the roof.

Lily sighed and ran a finger under her eye. "We should try and look for my wand." She said, getting up.

"Yeah, alright.' He said, getting to his feet. He looked around hopelessly and blew air out through his lips. 'I guess we could start in here."

"Oh, it could be _anywhere_!' she groaned, kicking stray leaves out of her path.

Harry ruffled his hair and watched as she kicked away broken beams of wood, roof tiles and shards of glass. "Maybe I could try to summon it,' he suggested. 'If it's anywhere near here, it'll just come right to me."

Lily straightened up and nodded. "Alright, give that a go."

Harry pulled his wand out of his back pocket and held it upward, concentrating. He would need to focus – the wand could have been anywhere in the property.

"_Accio Wand_! OW!" he cried as almost immediately, something pointy slammed into the back of his head.

Lily caught it clumsily as it ricochet off his head and looked at the wand in her hand in amazement. "I don't believe it; it was actually here! Just in that corner!"

Harry rubbed his head and groaned. "Hooray." He muttered, deadpan.

"Oh, stop being such a sooky la-la. This is my _wand_, Harry! Curious that its still here; he must have kicked it away after he killed me.' she said, looking at it in wonder. It was a nice length but was very dusty and worn from the weather. She dusted it off with the hem of her shirt and held it up to examine it. 'I remember the day Mr. Olivander gave me this wand. Willow, 10 ¼ inches – good for charms work, he said."

"Give it a whirl, then.' Said Harry, suppressing a laugh as she waved it around like a toddler who had just found her father's wand.

Lily looked around the room for a moment, deciding what to practice on, before she looked down at the broken crib beside her.

"_Repairo_' she commanded.

Instantly, the two halves snapped together and sealed with a grainy crack of splintered wood, and in no time at all the broken cot was a good as new, the paint fresh and not a sign that it had ever been destroyed only a few moments ago.

She smiled and waved her wand at it again, shrunk it down to the size of a penny and slipped it in her pocket.

"Just for safe keeping.' She said.

Harry smiled, but another gust of wind blew in the room and Harry was sure he felt the tiniest drop of rain. The smell of it was in the air, and the breeze felt cooler.

"Maybe we should go.' Said Lily, looking around again hopelessly. 'There's nothing left here for us anymore."

She grabbed his hand, gripped her wand tightly and the two of them disapparated with a CRACK.

* * *

A/N – kind of emotional, yes? I hope so…that's how I wanted it.

Please review!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9!

* * *

"So then what did he do?"

"Then…then he ran out of the locker rooms just before the game, right? Madam Hooch had no idea they'd been in there. They bolted right back up to the stands to get a good seat. Because, as discreet as they are, they couldn't _not_ see one of their pranks! So, they sit themselves around me and stupid me doesn't think _anything _of their placidness because, you know, James would always go into this sort of eerie calm where Quidditch was concerned."

"Yeah, so what happened when they all walked out?"

"Well, the Hufflepuffs came on first and then the Slytherins. So, they did their ritual shake hands thing, or try to break one another's hands is more like it, before Madam Hooch released the balls. By this time, Sirius, James, Remus and Peter were so still I could have mistaken them for being stunned or petrified! And then…ha, and _then_…Madam Hooch blows the whistle, and the Slytherin team kick off hard from the ground throwing all their weight upward…_and then come crashing back down again into the mud!_"

Harry and Lily roared with laughter at the image of an entire team of sour-puss Slytherins plowing themselves into the dirt. Harry had always privately found the thought of someone hurting themselves, like tripping over or walking into glass doors, to be rather funny. It was a trait he had, apparently, inherited from his mother.

"Oh…oh god…it was so _funny_, Harry.' Gasped Lily, clutching her stomach as she shuddered with laughter. 'They just all went down like flies! Oh, the stands shook with laughter! I swear I even saw McGonagall crack a smile."

"That's a brilliant idea,' said Harry, wiping a tear from his eye as she tried to stop laughing. 'Swapping their brooms over just old, regular, muggle ones. Would have taken some seriously good Transfiguration to pull it off, though."

Lily smiled. "James was exceptionally skilled at Transfiguration. Such a shame he was also exceptionally lazy; he would have made excellent grades in that class if only he'd studied a little more, or handed in an essay from time to time – just to shake things up. Oh, check."

"Ah, bugger." Muttered Harry, seeing where her queen had just taken his rook.

The two of them were sitting in the living room, playing with the old Chess set Ron had leant him months ago that he had never really got around to returning. It was just after ten, and like tonight they were up again as they had been up half the night before, settling Lily in and talking some more about stuff and nonsense that had blissfully nothing at all to do with the world outside Grimmauld Place.

"McGonagall used to say stuff to me when I was in detention like that. 'Baby unicorns don't wander far from the herd' she used to say.' Said Harry, moving his king. 'I didn't know whether or not she was giving me a compliment or trying to recite some hippie 60's pop ballad."

Lily arched an eyebrow at him. "Have you been in detention often?"

"Er…no. Of course not."

She grinned but didn't say anything in response.

Harry leant his elbows on his knees and blew out air through his lips as his mother contemplated her next move. "I wish I knew him."

Lily looked up from the chessboard and gazed at him. He was looking down at his feet, as if ashamed that he had vocalized such a deep, personal need to her. Leaning over the board a little, she tilted her head in an attempt to catch his eye.

"I'm sure that where ever he is, he's wishing the same thing.' She said softly.

A ghost of a smile spread across Harry's face, but he didn't look up. "How are you dealing with it all? You know…not having him here anymore."

Lily pursed her lips thoughtfully and chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I'm dealing with it. I've had a few months to grieve and it's gotten a little better. Of course, it still hurts like someone's jabbing at my heart with white hot pokers, but it is getting a little better."

Harry clenched his jaw, pushing aside the injustice of it all. One man could not get away with ruining so many lives, taking so many lives, destroying so many lives. Harry reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled the locket out to run his thumb over. He refused to let anyone else loose the chance to get to know their father; to see them in the mornings at the breakfast table, or teach them how to shave, or to show them how to fly…

"You shouldn't know what it is to grieve,' she said, considering the board between them once more. 'You're far too young to feel such a horrid emotion. Teenage angst and hatred toward the world and all its unfair rules, yes…but not grief. At least you were too young to really remember how it is to loose someone."

"Yeah,' he said, feeling that old pang of guilt hit him again. 'Lucky."

Lily moved her knight and laughed. "God, look at us, talking like an old pair of fuddie duddies. James would have a fit if he could see is being so somber and immobile!"

Harry smiled. "Wasn't he ever serious?"

"Hardly. Not even at our wedding. Hell, I'm betting he was even causing a riot at our funeral.' She giggled. 'James was never one to sit still very long…except of course for when he was watching Quidditch. He always reminded me of a toddler; always had to be into everything. If it was too quiet, he'd break out into song to crack the silence. If it was too somber, he'd throw fireworks out of his wand. If there was a sign saying 'Wet Paint', he had to touch it. He and the other three were always up for something."

"How did you end up marrying him?' he blurted out, unable to help himself.

Lily blinked and looked up at him. "Sorry?"

"Well, you used to hate dad, didn't you? You called him an arrogant berk, and told him you'd rather date the giant squid than him, and said that he made you sick to the stomach!"

Lily just looked at him.

"Or, you know, so I've heard." Muttered Harry, blushing.

She smiled and leant back in her seat. "And who did you hear this from?"

"Erm…someone."

"Well, this someone must have a good grasp on the situation.' She giggled, picking up one of her broken pawns and fiddling with it. 'Yes, I used to have a strong sense of dislike for him. Actually, I had a strong sense of dislike for _anyone_ who went around bullying people just because they thought it made them look tough. Not to mention the endless asking for dates didn't do much for my mood either."

Harry grinned. "So, what made you finally go out with him?"

Lily sighed. "Well, we were sitting in Transfiguration one day, and somehow he'd ended up in the seats behind me with Remus. And without meaning to, I happened to tune into their conversation."

"What were they talking about?"

She snorted. "Hair products."

Harry laughed and frowned in disbelief. "They weren't!"

"As I'm sitting right here, they were! Remus was going on about how he could never get his hair to style properly when he wanted to take photos, and James was recommending creams and mousses to him that he'd tried to use in the past. And James would know…considering the mop of hair he had. Something you would know a lot about, I see."

"So you decided to date him because he had a disturbingly broad knowledge of hair care products?

"No, wise-ass! Because of the way he was talking about it.' She said, throwing the pawn at him. 'I'd never heard him speak like that to anyone. So soft and helpful and kind and…normal. I'd only ever heard him talk in a mocking voice, or a joking voice, or those stupid accents he used to do when he was imitating Professors."

She smiled at the memory and ran a hand through her flaming hair. "Then he started to talk to _me_ like it, and I took a chance to see if there really was more to him and just some scruffy looking git. And there was. He'd grown up a little once he became Head Boy; took more responsibility."

"I bet having to do patrols with him didn't hurt either, didn't it?' he said slyly.

Lily smiled and looked away. "No, it didn't."

Harry smiled and opened his mouth to tease her a little more, but didn't get the change when a white hot searing pain stabbed him in the forehead. He cried out in both pain and surprise and rubbed the scar, hoping it didn't send him another vision.

"Harry?' asked Lily, her voice laced with concern. 'Harry, what's the matter?"

He clamped his eyes shut, willing the pain to go away. What did this mean? Was Voldemort near? No, that wasn't possible. How could he be anywhere near here? He didn't feel any alien emotions, happiness, anger, desperation…maybe Voldemort was doing it on purpose, just to taunt him.

_Well, two can play at that game,_ he thought angrily.

"Harry, talk to me! What's the matter?' said Lily, getting up from her seat and kneeling down in front of him. She took his face in her hands and made him face her. 'Are you getting a migraine?"

Harry looked at her and felt his heart thump and his chest tingle.

And the pain was gone.

He took slow, deep breaths, trying to banish the lingering dull throb. He tried to suppress a smile, but was failing. He could only imagine how he must have looked – probably like a madman, grinning like that.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?' asked Lily, smoothing his hair away from his sweaty forehead.

"Oh, er…yeah.' He muttered, trying to look casual.

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened."

Lily's eyes narrowed as she looked into his face. He was adverting his eyes and wincing, as if he wanted to rub his forehead again. She looked up at his scar and was surprised to see it redder than it had been before.

"Was that scar hurting you?" she asked.

"Oh, um…just a little.' He said, trying to push her hands away. He was a little nervous from all the physical closeness and concern she was showing. 'You know, it acts up from time to time. Nothing too serious."

Lily gave him a look. "Harry, I know I don't know you as well as I should just yet, but I'm not an idiot. I think I know when I'm being lied to."

"Lily, look at me. Is this the face of a guy who would lie to you?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

Lily's eyes narrowed.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The throb in his scar was lessening, thanks to her holding his hand and reassuring him. He might as well tell her now. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep it all a secret for long, but it wasn't fair for her not to know everything that had been going on. It could be dangerous for her if she wasn't prepared.

He rubbed his scar once more, the pain down to an uncomfortable tingling, and chewed on the inside of his lip. "How do you think I survived that night?"

Lily blew air out through her lips and stood up. "Well, I thought up a few theories.' She said, pulling her seat around to sit in front of him. 'The most likely one was that after I was killed, someone from the Order–…wait, do you know what that is? The Order of the Phoenix?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Oh, okay. Well, I just assumed that someone for the Order showed up and got you out of there before Voldemort had the chance to hurt you. Although, it doesn't really make sense that you were sent to live with Petunia of _all_ people. We had specifically said that if anything were to happen to us you were to go live with Sirius."

For not the first time that day, Harry felt his heart throb with the pang of grief. This was going to be harder than he thought.

He sighed and ruffed his hair. "See, truth is…that's not at all how it happened."

"It isn't?"

"No. As nice as that scenario would have been, no – that's not how it happened at all.' He said. 'See, the thing is…' he paused and grimaced, always hating having to talk about himself. It would have been so much easier if he just gave her a book and let her read about him in there.

He pulled himself together and started again. "The thing is…Voldemort _did_ try to kill me that night. He…well…he used Avada Kedavra on me."

Lily frowned. "But, he can't have. You wouldn't be sitting here today otherwise!"

"Well, he did. And instead of killing me, the spell bounced back from me to him and destroyed him.' Said Harry, gripping his locked a little tighter. 'That's why half the room was blown out, and that's how I got my scar. It's a curse scar made from the failed curse that tried to kill me."

Her eyes widened in amazement as she just looked at her son. Harry could only imagine what her reaction would be when he really got into everything.

"But, no-one's _ever_ survived Avada Kedavra, Harry.' She whispered.

"Yeah, I know.' He said, giving her a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. 'And it wasn't just the fact that I had survived that curse, but it was the fact that I had brought about 'Voldemort's downfall' that really got everyone intrigued. Because of all this…everyone in the entire Wizarding World knows my name, knows my face and knows my scar. There's not a person out there that doesn't know who I am. They…they call me 'The Boy who Lived'."

"Everyone?" she asked.

"Everyone."

"You're…you're _famous_?"

"Probably more so than Voldemort or the Beatles."

Lily let out a laugh of shock and put a hand over her mouth. 'Jesus _Christ_, Harry…"

He shrugged. "Yeah, him too."

"How did you survive such an attack?' she asked, looking as curious as she was concerned. 'How does _anyone_ come away from something like that? At especially at the age you were!"

"Actually…its all because of you that I survived.' He said. 'Dumbledore called it Old magic, something that Voldemort didn't anticipate or understand for that matter. Because of your sacrifice, and because of how much you…you loved me…it provided me with protection."

Lily smiled. "When I stood before you, I swore to myself that even in death nothing would happen to you. He kept saying to me that I didn't have to die, that I could have stepped aside and let him have you. But heaven be damned if I was going to move and let him take you instead of me. A mother does not leave her child so easily swayed, especially to such a monster.'

She rubbed her jaw and gathered her thoughts. "But I still don't understand why Sirius didn't take you in. I can't imagine him not wanting to – he nearly wet himself when James and I asked him to be your guardian."

"Well, it was Dumbledore's orders that I was to go live with Aunt Petunia.' Said Harry. 'He didn't think Voldemort was completely dead so, for my protection, he sent me to live with my only blood relative. It made me safe from attack for some reason, I don't really understand it all myself. But it was the blood connection – something Sirius didn't have."

"Did Sirius honestly give you up without any argument?' asked Lily in disbelief.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Hagrid came and found me, took me away from Sirius and flew me over to Surrey on Sirius's old motorbike."

Lily wrapped her arms around herself and sighed. "Sirius must have been out of his mind, loosing us and you all in the same night. Especially James…' she stopped and let the sentence hang unfinished in the air. She shook her head and looked back up at him. 'Did he at least come and visit you? Did Remus? Or Peter?"

"Um, no.' said Harry awkwardly. 'This is going to be hard for you to hear, but…Sirius was accused of selling you out to Voldemort that night."

"He was _WHAT_?' she shouted, outraged. 'How could anyone in their right mind think for even one second that Sirius would _do_ such a thing to us?"

"Well, nobody knew that you had switched Sirius for Wormtail as your Secret Keeper, so it made sense that he would be the one to betray you.' Said Harry, remembering how he felt the first time he'd heard this story. So shocked and so angry…

"Well, he got off of course, didn't he?' said Lily, looking expectant. 'I mean, once they found out the truth, they let him off, right?"

"They probably would have if they ever gave him a trial."

"He didn't even get a trial?"

"No; Barty Crouch threw him into Azkaban without so much as a hearing. Life sentence."

Lily paled. "A-Azkaban? Sirius… went to _Azkaban_?"

Harry nodded solemnly. "Yes, he did."

Lily frowned in disbelief, shaking her head at the injustice. She looked very unsettled at the facts that had transpired after her death, and Harry didn't blame her at all for feeling so distraught.

"What about Remus?' she asked. 'And Peter? What happened to them?"

Harry pursed his lips and slipped the locket back under his collar. "How about I start from the beginning? That way everything will make more sense."

"Yes,' she said, nodding and sitting up straight. 'Yes, that sounds good."

Harry nodded, settled into his chair and started.

"Okay, well as I told you, I was sent to live with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon."

"Did they treat you well?' she growled.

"Compared to a cockroach, yeah.' He muttered irritably. 'I can't say the memories of my time at Privet Drive would create the most powerful Patronus I have. The cupboard under the stairs I guess I could handle, and Dudley's hand-me-downs that would fit a baby elephant better than they would fit me was tolerable too, but being left out at birthdays and Christmas and not being allowed to ask any questions about you and Dad, or even get one lousy picture to hang up in my cupboard was just…'

"Your cupboard?' she asked. 'Didn't you get photo frames in your bedroom?"

Harry smiled sadly. "The cupboard _was_ my bedroom. I, er…slept in the cupboard under the stairs until I was eleven."

Lily's eyes narrowed and the furniture began to wobble.

"You slept _where?_ Excuse me?"

"In the cupboard under the stairs.' He repeated slowly, feeling slightly unnerved at her murderous expression. 'The other bedroom was taken up with all of Dudley's extra toys and electronic equipment and other stuff that I was never allowed to touch."

Lily let out a shocked sort of laugh and frowned. "Are you telling me that my sister had you wear grotty hand-me-downs, had you sleep in a cupboard not even fit for a dog, and didn't let you even talk about me and James?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah, pretty much."

Lily looked as though she could chew nails in that moment. The window panes shook violently and Harry thought he heard something smash in the kitchen, but otherwise it was completely silent.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, held it and let it out again in an attempt to compose herself. The furniture stopped shaking and she smiled rather falsely.

"Keep going,' she said softly.

"Well, er…_anyway_…once my letter from Hogwarts started arriving, everything changed. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were freaking out – it was brilliant! I tell you, it was very amusing to see such 'in control' people loose their heads over a few simple letters."

"A few letters? How many did they send you?"

"Er…more than ten."

Lily snorted. "What in heaven's name for? One would suffice! Unless of course you weren't getting your letters, in which case they would send you…' she stopped and frowned at him. 'You weren't getting your letters?"

Harry shook his head. "Uncle Vernon would rip them up before I could even read them. He and Aunt Petunia didn't want me going to Hogwarts."

"As if they could stop you, really.' She said. 'All you would have to have done was threaten them with a little magic."

"Yeah, well, I probably would have if I knew I was wizard in the first place."

Lily went deadly still again. "You didn't even…"

"Nope."

"They never told…"

"Nope."

"So, you had no idea why…"

"Nope."

Lily shook her head again in disbelief. "I can't believe she never even told you who you were. Or who _we_ were. Could she really have been that ashamed of me?'

She scratched her chin and seemed to be trying to control herself. "So, how did they tell you your father and I died?"

"In a car accident."

"A _CAR_ accident?"

"Yeah, that's how they said I got my scar. Said I was thrown onto the road while you two died on impact.' Said Harry regretfully. 'It wasn't until Hagrid sat me down and told me the truth that I really knew what happened. Hagrid took me to get all my school supplies as well, even bought me Hedwig for my first ever birthday present."

"Did he take you in to get your wand?' she asked suddenly.

"Oh, er, no. I went in by myself."

Lily considered him for a moment, as if she wanted to say something, but she kept silent.

Harry sighed. "Anyway, first year went off without a hitch really. I met Ron and Hermione on the train. Ron became my best friend instantly."

"And Hermione?"

"Hermione was…' he paused and smiled. 'Well, Hermione took a little getting used to."

"So, I know you of all people can imagine my feelings when I showed up to Hogwarts. It was the best thing I'd ever seen in my entire life! Its alive paintings and its moving staircases and enchanted hallways…I was quite content to stay over the summer as well as the school year. It was so different from the stuffiness of Privet Drive. It was insane, and I loved it."

Lily smiled. "I know; I used to love it there too. At first it was all just so amazing and magical, but then it started to just feel like home. Like nothing bizarre like flying broomsticks or house elves or dragons would ever faze me again."

Harry nodded. "Hogwarts was my home, the only place I ever really felt happy. Well, you know, there were a few things I could have lived without. Like that git Malfoy and his entire house of gits and their Head of Git house Snape and…'

"Whoa, wait a minute!' said Lily quickly, holding up a hand. 'Snape? As in _Severus _Snape?"

"Uh huh,' said Harry, sounding as excited as one was to learn they had just stepped into a rather large pile of Dragon dung.

"Dumbledore made him a professor? At _Hogwarts_?' she laughed. 'Good Lord, the old man must be a few sandwiches short of a picnic in his old age."

Harry smiled, glad that his mother was under the same impression of Snape's appointment of an educator to be completely ludicrous as he was.

"I bet he taught Defense against the Dark Arts, didn't he?' she said.

"No, Potions actually."

Lily laughed. "Ha! Dumbledore isn't as insane as I thought then. I bet Snape was real ticked off about that, wasn't he?"

"Only a little bit."

"What's he like as a teacher?"

Harry smiled. "You remember Norman Bates from Psycho?"

"Mmm…disturbing.' Said Lily, nodding. 'He was always a little strange during school; doesn't surprise me that he hasn't changed as an adult. I mean, we're 36 years old now for heaven's sake. You'd have thought we'd have all grown out of this by now."

"You'd think."

"Was he alright with you?' she asked, unable to hide her concern. 'I mean, because of his dislike towards James…'

Harry laughed. "Imagine him and dad back at school, and you have me and Snape."

Lily frowned. "That is highly unfair and childish of him."

"It's alright. He hates me as much as I hate him…it's a simple relationship. Anyway, the first year of school went by alright until towards the end of the year."

"Oh, why? What happened?"

"Long story short? Dumbledore had hidden the Philosophers Stone under the school and someone was trying to steal it. We thought it was Snape the whole time, but it wasn't."

"Who was it then?"

"Voldemort."

Lily's eyes widened. "But…but that's not possible! You killed him!"

"No, I didn't. I thought so too as well as everyone, but he wasn't dead. He was like…a sort of half-living, half-dead spirit that was only barely holding on. He'd possessed one of the Professors and tried to steal the stone so he could have immortality. The Stone produces the Elixir of Life, and that's what he was after."

"Harry…how on earth do you know all this?"

Harry grinned. "Cause I went after him."

"You did _what_?' she cried. 'Harry, what in the hell possessed you to do such a reckless, totally irresponsible thing like that? Did Evil Knievel come back to life and take your body over or something?"

"No, it wasn't like that at all! He was going to get the stone unless someone stopped him."

"Then you should have gone to a teacher!"

"We did! McGonagall wouldn't believe us when we said someone was after it and Dumbledore had been lured out of the school. There was no-one else to go down there after it but us!"

Lily arched her eyebrows. "Us? Who did this group of 'Us' consist of? Three little eleven year olds?"

"Don't patronize me now, after everything…"

"You could have been _killed,_ Harry!"

"Well, it wouldn't have been the first time."

Lily sighed and looked at him, completely at a loss. "What happened between the two of you, then?"

Harry pursed his lips, not really understanding why she was getting so upset. "Well, once I found out that it wasn't Snape after all, Voldemort went through his usual monologue of how there was no good or evil and how I could have joined him, but I was eleven – not stupid."

"No, you proved your intelligence by going after one of the most powerful wizards of all time with no support but your two best friends." She muttered sarcastically.

Harry frowned defensively. "Those two friends of mine are the best support I could ever have or would ever want."

"And I don't mean any offence, Harry, but _honestly_…going after Voldemort by yourself like that…' she trailed off, rubbed her eyes and let out a slow breath. 'So, obviously Team Evil lost out in the end."

"Yeah, I managed to get the stone before he could. When he tried to attack me…well, it didn't turn out so good for him."

"Why, what happened?"

"Turns out he couldn't touch me. The protection you gave me the day you died was still there, so he couldn't lay one finger on me without getting hurt. Unfortunately for Quirrel, he felt it all and I kind of…well, kind of killed him."

"You _killed_ him?"

"Only a little."

Lily chewed on her bottom lip, totally in awe of everything she was hearing. Harry had told her ages ago that he had taken on a mountain troll in his first year and gone into the Forbidden Forest, but all of that seemed like child's play compared to all of this. He'd not only faced Voldemort once and survived, but twice! Something that wizards twice his age had barely ever accomplished.

She ran her hands through her hair and laughed. "Please tell me your second year was much more peaceful that your first."

"Oh, sure.' said Harry, nodding. 'Except for that little incident with the Chamber of Secrets being opened, Tom Riddle's diary possessing Ginny, me and Ron almost being killed by giant spiders in the Forbidden Forest and a ruddy big Basilisk petrifying all the muggle-borns in the school including Hermione."

Lily's mouth dropped open.

"Please tell me you're joking.' She gasped.

Harry smiled and shrugged.

"A _Basilisk_? Of all the stupid ideas…' she muttered. "What kind of school is Dumbledore running?"

Harry laughed and then proceeded to fill in the details of his second year, from Dobby showing up in his room at Privet Drive, to almost being expelled, all the way up to dueling club.

"And that's when I discovered that I was a Parselmouth.' Said Harry carefully.

Lily's mouth dropped opened again. "A…A Parselmouth? But, how can you be a Parselmouth? James's family has no history of such a talent and mine certainly doesn't."

"No, I got it from Voldemort."

"How'd you manage that?"

Harry explained this as Dumbledore had, and then went on to discuss the writing on the wall, the attacks and their patterns, the Polyjuice Potion incident in which they had used to get information out of Malfoy, all the way through him going down into the Chamber with Ron to find Ginny.

"I didn't even think the Chamber of Secrets was real.' She said, trying not to think about her son going underground to possibly face his death. 'I mean, we'd all heard rumors of course, but the Professors all assured us it wasn't there."

"Well, they didn't think it was."

"Was there a Basilisk down there?"

"Yep."

"And, you…you didn't fight it, did you?"

"Yep."

"You took on a 60 foot Basilisk at twelve years of age with nothing but a wand…and _won_?"

"Well, actually I had a sword – but yes."

Lily groaned and put a hand to her forehead. "I'm getting a migraine. Maybe it was a good thing I was dead for all this – my nerves would be shot by now."

"Oh, it gets better.' He chuckled. 'At least I wasn't nearly killed in my third year. Well, no, I was…but not violently."

"You were nearly killed _again_? Exactly how many lives do you have?"

"I think I'm on my seventh or eight. Anyway, it wasn't Voldemort this time. The Dementors were…"

"Dementors?' she cried. 'Where did you encounter Dementors?"

"At Hogwarts, but..."

"At _HOGWARTS_?"

"Lily, sit down!' he laughed, tugging on her hand to pull her back into the seat she had just leapt out of. 'The Ministry posted Dementors at Hogwarts to protect me and everyone else."

"But why? And why _Dementors_ of all creatures?"

At this, Harry laughed. "Because the 'mean and scary' Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban."

Lily's eyes widened in amazement. "Sirius…actually broke out of Azkaban?'

"Yeah, he transformed into his Animagus form and slid through the bars."

"That's…that's just amazing!' she breathed. 'I mean, no-one's _ever_ escaped from Azkaban before! Trust Sirius…they could barely keep him in detention for more than half an hour without him slipping out from under their noses. He always had a way of getting out of something."

She smiled at the memory for a moment, before focusing back in on Harry. "But, why did they have Dementors stationed outside Hogwarts, then?"

"Well, the Ministry and everyone else were under the impression that Sirius was coming after me. To kill me and 'avenge his master's death'. Sirius was labeled one of the most terrifying wizards in the Death Eater circle after that night, and they all thought he was crazy and hell-bent on revenge. This, of course, meant coming after me."

"Sirius wouldn't hurt a fly.' Said Lily. 'Snape maybe, but certainly not _you_! You were his Godson for Heaven's sake!"

"I didn't know that until that year.' Said Harry. 'I didn't even know he was innocent until I finally confronted him. Until he and Profess-…er, Remus explained it all to me."

Lily's eyes widened and smirked. "Remus was at Hogwarts? Teaching?"

"Yeah, he taught us Defense. He was the best damn teacher we ever had, too.' Said Harry, smiling. 'He taught me how to conjure my Patronus and everything."

Lily blinked. "You could conjure a Patronus at _thirteen_?"

"A million hits to the floor and ten pounds of chocolate later, yeah."

She beamed at him, still quite unable to process all the extraordinary things he had done at such a young age. He was more talented that she or James could have ever have hoped to be, and he was only seventeen!

"Anyway…what happened with Sirius?' she asked.

"Well, they explained to us that Sirius really wasn't the one that betrayed you to Voldemort. They explained how you and dad had changed Secret Keepers and how Sirius had been framed, and…"

"Wait, hang on.' She said, interrupting again with a wave of her hand. 'How do they figure that Sirius was framed?"

"He _was_ framed.' Said Harry.

And then he thought of something.

"How…how did you think Voldemort found you that night?"

Lily shivered and rubbed her arms. "They must have found Peter and got it out of him somehow. Tortured him, used Legilimency, Veritaserum…I don't know. All I know is that they're complete and utter bastards for hurting Peter so much. I don't know how they found out it was him anyway."

Harry bit his lip. "No, Lily, they didn't torture him for information. Wormtail… went to them willingly."

Lily's eyes narrowed, and Harry saw the familiar signs of denial starting to show in her face. He knew she wasn't going to accept this straight away…Harry would have felt the same if someone had accused Ron or Hermione of selling him out. To hear that someone you were such good friends with had betrayed you was not something you took lightly.

"No, that can't be true.' Said Lily, shaking her head insistently. 'No way possible."

"I know this is hard to hear, but…"

"No, Harry, you don't understand!' she cried. 'Peter would never do that to James or me. He couldn't, he _wouldn't_…'

She got up and walked over to the window, her arms folded over her chest as she frowned pensively. Harry remembered the day he found out the truth of what happened; the reluctance to believe it all. It had been so much easier to be mad at Sirius.

"Look, I know this is hard to hear – it was hard to hear for me too.' He said softly, getting to his feet. 'The night you were killed, Sirius went to the house to see if he could do anything but he was too late. Muggles were all over the place, trying to see what happened, and that's when Peter showed up. Sirius knew that Peter had sold you out and went ballistic at him and attacked him, but Peter accused Sirius in front of everyone and then faked his death by cutting off his finger, transforming into a rat and running from the scene. The explosion they caused killed thirteen Muggles, and when the Auror's arrived, the muggles told them what happened and they carted Sirius off to Azkaban."

Lily was shaking her head, her jaw clenched.

Harry crossed over to her and put a hand on her arm. 'Wormtail went to Voldemort of his own accord. He became a Death Eater and he sold you out."

She took in a deep, shuddering breath and let it out again as if only just keeping herself together. Harry didn't know whether or not he should put an arm around her to comfort her or not, so he simply gave her arm a supportive squeeze.

"Its not that I don't believe you, Harry,' she said softly. 'It's just difficult to process. I mean, Peter was our friend! He stood up with James at our wedding, he was there when you were born, we went to school together, we were in the Order together…'

She trailed off and looked down at her feet, her hair creating a curtain around her face to obscure her expression of hurt and betrayal. There was a defeated hunch to her shoulders, and Harry didn't think he could stand the sadness. And more than ever, in that moment, he wanted to find Wormtail and wring his treacherous little neck with his own rat tail.

"I'm sorry.' He whispered.

Lily looked up around at him for a moment, before turning around fully and wrapping her arms around him. Harry stiffened a little at the sudden burst of affection, but relaxed and wrapped his arms around her in response. She rested her head in the hollow of his neck and sighed.

"We _trusted_ him, Harry.' She whispered.

"Yeah, I know. That's why it hurts so much."

"I'm sorry you had to find out like that, having been afraid of Sirius coming after you, only to find out that it wasn't him all along and all.'

She looked up at him and frowned. "How did Sirius manage to convince you anyway?"

"He proved that Wormtail was still alive. Turns out that he was posing as Ron's pet rat, Scabbers."

Lily blinked and paused for a moment, before the corner of her mouth twitched. "You know what? All this would make for a very interesting story."

Harry laughed. "What?"

"It would. Or a movie franchise or a book series or something. It'd be very popular, you know, all this drama."

"Right, because that's all I need, more publicity."

"Well, one can never be too popular.' She giggled.

Harry frowned at her in concern. "How can you be joking about all this? You've just found out that your best friend betrayed you, after all."

Lily smiled and smoothed out his collar. "Harry, it's either joke about it, or risk the entire house coming down with the force of my emotional, misplaced magic.'

Harry considered her for a moment, before smiling.

"I could give Mickey Mouse a run for his money."

Lily laughed and hugged him again. "Yes, you could. We could start up a theme park; Harry Potter World."

"I could sell t-shirts and coffee mugs."

"And we could sell round-rimmed glasses with little scars attached, and wigs of that mop of hair you have!"

They laughed over the absurdness of their ideas for a moment, before they sobered up and the seriousness of their situations loomed over them once more. Harry rubbed her arms and pulled back a little so he could look at her properly.

"You want to hear the rest of my story?' he asked. 'Or would you prefer to just see the film?"

Lily smiled. "No, I want to hear the rest. As long as it isn't as bad as your first three years of school.

Harry laughed and ran a hand through his head. "You're going to need some juice."

----------------

Three hours later, Harry was pacing the hall, back and forth out the front of the door of his mother's room in his pajamas, caught in a whirlwind of indecision. The entire house was quiet, save for the sort patter of his bare feet against the floorboards as he paced. He wanted to go in, but he didn't think it right to intrude on her. She would need time alone to process all that he had told her, and he wanted to respect her needs.

As soon as he had finished telling her every event in his life, right up to Dumbledore's funeral back in June, she had just sat there staring at him for what seemed hours, before she got up and walked out of the room like a zombie without one single word. Harry's first instinct had been to follow her, but he restrained himself knowing that she, like him, needed some solace to think everything over.

But, it was now just past midnight, and he didn't know whether or not to check on her or leave her be. She could have been sleeping, or she could have been an emotional wreck…either situation he was not very experienced with handling.

He stopped his pacing directly in front of the door and blew air out through his lips, ruffling the back of hair and still quite unable to work up the stones to just knock on the sodding door and put an end to the debate raging in his head. He leant forward and pressed his ear against the cool wood of the door, but heard nothing.

_Come on Potter_, he thought determinedly. _You're a Gryffindor, for god's sake! Pull yourself together. Worst case scenario… she hexes you for intruding on her privacy. _

Harry rolled his eyes. Even his sub-conscious was a sarcastic smart-ass.

So, taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked softly on the door.

No answer.

Harry sighed, hesitated, then opened the door inward just an inch so he could peek in. The room was dark, illuminated by the light of the moon and the streetlamps coming in through the open curtains, and he could see her sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest and a distant look on her face.

He pushed the door inward a little more and stuck his head in. As the door creaked, showing off his amazing stealth tactics, she looked around and smiled at him.

"I wondered if you were just going to dance outside my room all night.' She said.

"I didn't know if you were asleep or not." He said guiltily, slipping into the room fully and shutting the door behind him.

She pursed her lips and looked back out toward the window. "I couldn't sleep."

"Yeah, I don't blame you.' He said, sitting down beside her.

There was a long, awkward silence, and Harry felt as though he should try to fill it up. But all that would come out would be lame, inappropriate jokes, and he didn't think she would appreciate it all that much.

"Are you, er…alright?" he asked.

She smiled and put her chin on her knees. "Not really."

"Ah, right.' Said Harry, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you, er…do you want me to leave you alone?"

Lily looked around at him. "Actually, I think I'd prefer it if you'd stay. Will you? Just for a little while?"

"Sure, yeah."

She smiled at him, then looked back out into space once more.

Harry hesitated for a long moment, before shifting over closer to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. Lily didn't respond much, just turned her head toward him, planted a kiss on his cheek and then went back to her staring.

Harry didn't mind at all.

* * *

A/N – Yes, I know, very long! But I wanted to show some of the reactions Lily would have to such news, and although we all knew that information like the back of our hands, I thought you might find it interesting. Let me know your fave parts!

Please review!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10!

* * *

"Harry…I'm not so sure about this."

It was late morning at Ottery St, Catchpole when two people appeared out of thin air. Well, to the eye only one would have appeared. The other was hidden under an Invisibility Cloak.

Harry, who had been making his way down the road to the Burrow at the bottom of the hill, stopped and turned back to look at the open air of space that had spoken in his mothers voice.

He frowned in curiosity. "Not sure? What are you talking about? You were all up for this this morning."

"Yeah, well…' the gravel road crunched under invisible feet as she began walking down the hill toward him. 'I just don't know if we should be doing this now. Don't you want to prepare them instead of just saying 'surprise!' and flipping the cloak off me like some cheap, party magician trick?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "And how would I prepare someone for something like this? Just slip it into general conversation? 'Oh, I'm fine thank you! How was my week? Oh, you know, nothing special. Bought some broom polish, fed my owl, my dead mother came back to life and oh, I bought a new pair of jeans'? Somehow, I don't think that's going to work very well."

An invisible hand whacked him across the back of the head.

"Don't you throw wisecracks at me, son. I was throwing around sarcasm before you were even an embryo."

"Well you're the one being stupid about it all!"

"_I'm_ being stupid? _You're_ the one who looks like his shouting at himself!"

Harry shut his mouth and looked around to make sure no-one was watching.

"Will you just come _on_?' he hissed out of the corner of his mouth. 'I'd grab your arm and drag you if I could see where your arm was."

There was a giggle, and then the crunching of gravel as she began to walk off down the hill. "Afraid you'll grab something you shouldn't be?"

Harry blushed and followed the footprints. "Actually, yes, I am."

"You're so cute when you worry, anyone ever told you that?"

"No, not really. Hermione doesn't usually say anything about it, and Ginny just tells me to get over myself."

"And Ron?"

Harry looked at her general area in slight disgust. "Are you serious?"

"I could answer that, but it would be another overtired, inappropriate use to a terrible pun. Is that the place?"

Harry looked around and smiled as the Burrow came into view, the chickens running around the lawn and its usual disarray of limbs and add-ons giving him that usual uplifting feeling.

"Yep, that's the Burrow."

"It's different."

"It's brilliant, that's what it is.' Said Harry, taking a moment to stand there and admire one of his favorite places in the world.

He felt a presence next to him, and then something brush up against his elbow.

"So, what can I expect from these Weasley friends of yours? Am I going to be attacked?"

Harry smiled. "No, not while I'm with you. It might take a bit of convincing, especially on Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's part, but they'll accept it quicker than I did."

"I thoroughly look forward to finally meeting the famous Weasley's,' she chuckled beside him. 'After how much you simple rave about them, they must be something special."

"That they are. Come on, let's go, I can smell treacle tart."

Harry led her down the road, through the garden and small mob of chickens and right up to the front door. He lifted his hand up to knock on the door, but paused and looked around at the space behind him.

"You ready?"

There was a heavy silence for a moment, then 'As long as you're right there with me."

Harry grinned and knocked on the door. "Lily Potter afraid of a social, Sunday morning tea. What _is_ the world coming to?"

"I am _not_…'

But what she was not, Harry didn't get to hear, for the wooden door swung inward revealing Harry's lanky best friend, Ron Weasley on the other side.

"Harry!' laughed Ron, his eyes widening in mock surprise. 'What the blazes are you doing here?"

Harry gave him a look. "I was looking for the post office. What the sodding hell do you _think_ I'm doing here you oaf?"

Ron laughed good naturedly and stepped aside to let him entry. "Yeah, alright, no need to throw out the insults. Get inside then before mum has a hernia. She was beginning to wonder if you were even coming."

Harry waited a moment to move forward, letting Lily discreetly slip in first. "Why wouldn't I be coming?"

"You're extremely late."

"She said eleven thirty."

"So?"

"It's twenty to!"

"Like I said, you're extremely late."

Harry laughed and finally entered the house, letting Ron shut the door closed behind him. The living room was its usual tidy self, and the smell of cooking from the kitchen was only winning the race of his senses by an inch over the gentle thump of Ginny's stereo upstairs. Harry made his way through to the kitchen, conscious of his mother still lurking somewhere silently in the room, before a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

He let out a yelp of surprise as he was faced with Ron, a wand pointed at his chest and a steely determined look on his best friends face.

"What's my nickname?" asked Ron threateningly.

Harry grinned and folded his arms over his chest. "Roonil Wazlib. Or would you prefer to stick with Won-Won?"

Ron looked as if he were going to curse Harry simply for his cheek, but smiled and lowered his wand.

"Very well, you passed." He muttered, his ears turning red.

"What's my secret fetish?" asked Harry, checking.

Ron smirked. "Watermelon Lip Gloss."

"And if you ever tell anyone that, you will promptly find a broomstick shoved swiftly up your arse." He muttered, hoping that Lily wasn't anywhere in the vicinity to hear such a thing.

"Ah, Harry! You came!"

Mrs. Weasley had just appeared from the kitchen, complete with her apron and large wooden spoon in her hand.

"Of course he came! I told you he would be here!' said Ron rolling his eyes.

Ignoring her son, she rushed over, her hands covered in flour and grabbed Harry's face to plant a kiss on his cheeks.

"Good to see you, sweetheart!'

Harry laughed and blushed, unable to help himself. "Morning, Mrs. Weasley. Sorry I'm so late."

"Oh, nonsense dear. I didn't even notice!'

Ron let out a strangled cough.

Mrs. Weasley threw him a dirty look over her shoulder, then turned back to Harry and grinned at him. "It's good to see you out of Grimmauld Place, though, I have to say. Taking a break from all this nonsense with You-Know-Who. Not to mention that you can't _possibly_ have been eating well there at all! I know you know how to cook, Harry, but it doesn't beat a good, home cooked meal."

Harry wiped the flour off his cheeks. "Yeah, well, nothing beats your food, period."

"Oh, Harry, you're sweet. Come into the kitchen, I have a tart made up all for you! Considering, of course, that Ronald hasn't tried to sneak a taste from it – _again_!"

"I took one taste!' cried Ron, throwing his arms up in the air as his mother walked past him back into the kitchen. He shook his head and crossed over to Harry.

"Everyone out are they?' asked Harry, dusting his hands of flour.

Ron nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, Dad's at work helping out with damage control and Bill and Fleur are out looking at dress robes for the wedding. Fred and George don't come home so much lately, and Percy…well, you can guess about Percy. So I'm just stuck here with the bloody women.'

Harry laughed at the look Ron threw toward the kitchen. 'What's _that_ look for?"

"She's been completely barmy these past few weeks.' Muttered Ron. 'No wonder Ginny's locked herself up in her room. All we can do his hope and plead that this mental instability misses a generation."

Harry snorted. "She's not that bad, is she?"

Ron arched his eyebrows. "She's been ironing my socks. By hand."

"Oh no. We have _got_ to stop the insanity."

"That's what you're here for, mate!' laughed Ron, clapping Harry on the back. 'Saviour of Wizards, Witches and Hosiery alike."

There was a snort to Harry's left, and Harry coughed loudly to try and hide it. Luckily, Ron didn't seem to notice anything amiss.

"Speaking of which…' said Ron, leaning a bit closer and dropping his volume a little more 'How is everything? You know, with the…_the stuff_."

Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, alright. I'm still as stumped as I was back in June, but the notes help a little. They clear it all out, you know? Make it easier to analyze."

"So, Hermione was actually onto something when she spoke of the 'things-that-shall-not-be-named'?"

"The _what_?"

"You know…' he whispered, looking around uncomfortably. 'Taking notes and all."

"Oh, right!' laughed Harry. 'Seems that way, yeah."

"Bugger. And here I was hoping she'd actually be wrong about something for once."

"Yeah, like that would ever happen."

"Yeah, right!' laughed Ron.

"Are you two just going to stand over there whispering all day?' called Mrs. Weasley from the kitchen 'Or are you actually going to come and eat something?"

Harry and Ron jerked away from each other and cleared their throats, ruffling their hair and puffing out their chests in a manly manner. And Harry was sure he could hear the faint titter of suppressed giggles somewhere to his right.

Ron blew air out through his lips and his eyes widened. "Well, we'd better get to it, eh? I know its going to be a struggle, sacrificing our dignity by stuffing our faces with treacle tart and tea cake, but we must press on, Harry…for the old woman's sake."

"Er, actually…' said Harry, grabbing Ron's arm as he made to move off. 'I kind of wanted to talk to you about something."

"Alright, what is it?"

Harry sighed and focused his attention on the space around him, trying to sense Lily's presence around him. "I kind of had ulterior motives for this suggested morning tea idea of mine."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I did."

Ron looked puzzled for a moment, before his eyebrows rose and he grinned. "Oh, I get you!"

"You…you do?"

"Oh yeah, sure! But, er, just between you and me…' he said, leaning in again with a lowered voice. 'You don't need to make up some excuse to come see her. I don't think she's going to mind you just dropping in."

Harry frowned, wondering what on earth he was talking about, before it clicked. "Oh, no, Ron…'

"I mean, sure, there's bound to be that big old awkwardness between the two of you, considering how you broke up only just a few months ago…'

"No, Ron…'

'But I really don't think she's going to care. I mean, yeah, she's gone a little loopy lately, but who hasn't, eh? War does that to people. And to have the guy you've been in love with since you were ten dump you at a funeral…'

"_Ron_!' cried Harry, feeling even worse now that Ron put it all like that. 'This isn't about Ginny."

"Oh,' said Ron, blinking in surprise. 'It isn't?"

Harry rolled his eyes and went to answer, when Mrs. Weasley came back over, a tray of cake slices hovering in front of her.

"Are you two quiet finished? This cake is going to get cold. Ron, can you please go get Ginny? Harry, dear, sit down, you're looking haggard…'

"Keep your hair on, will you?' said Ron irritably, giving his mother a look. 'Harry's trying to tell me something important."

Harry smiled bashfully, shoved his hands in his pockets and blushed as Mrs. Weasley looked at him in slight surprise, ever inch of face showing a sudden and familiar expression of concern.

"Oh, I'm sorry,' she said. 'Did you want me to leave you two alone?"

"No, its okay, Mrs. Weasley. Actually, I want you to hear this too."

But Harry couldn't form any words that would sound like any sort of explanation. How exactly could he explain such an outrageous thing? They would laugh him off, or mother him and tell him he wasn't getting out enough, or cart him off to St Mungo's to live with Lockhart. They were just standing there patiently, watching him expectantly as one waited with baited breath at the conclusion of a particularly gripping thriller. There was a breeze of air beside him, and he felt something brush past him. He didn't know where in the room she was, but he could feel her unease.

He laughed nervously and ruffled his hair. "Look, there's really no way I can say this, so I'm just going to show you, okay?"

They nodded.

"But first…give me your wands."

Mrs. Weasley and Ron exchanged a nervous glance.

"Our wands?' asked Mrs. Weasley, fingering her own wand at her side. 'What on earth do you want them for?"

"Just an insurance policy.' Said Harry, holding out his hand expectantly. 'Please? I only want them for a minute."

"Harry, I like to think that everything you do has a purpose,' said Mrs. Weasley, looking very unsure. 'But I don't see how you taking our wands away is going to…_Ron, what are you doing?_"

Ron, who had said nothing since Harry had made his request, had wordlessly pulled his wand out of his back pocket and placed it defiantly into Harry's outstretched hand. He gave Harry a smile, then looked down at the outraged expression his mother was giving him.

"What? I trust Harry.' He said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'And I'm very surprised that you, of all people, don't."

Mrs. Weasley spluttered and looked very offended for a moment, swapping her gaze between Harry and Ron for a moment. She pursed her lips and looked down at her wand, hesitating.

"I understand your hesitance, but I'll give it right back to you, I promise.' Said Harry giving her a small smile.

She surveyed him for a long moment, before finally handing it over to him. He could see the wrench on her face, as if handing over her lifeline to him. He understood – giving someone your wand was placing a massive trust in them.

He pocketed them and smiled. He looked around the room, hoping to see some sign of Lily's whereabouts, but gave up after a moment. Feeling the weight of their gaze on him, he sighed and tensed up.

"You can come out now.' He called into the room.

There was a hesitant pause… and then Lily Potter appeared over by the fireplace, a very nervous expression on her face.

CRASH.

The tray of cakes fell to the floor with a clatter, but no-one seemed to notice but Harry. Mrs. Weasley and Ron were both staring at Lily with wide eyes of surprise, completely white and in shock of what it was they were seeing. Harry watched on nervously, his bottom lip wedged between his teeth as he waited to see what they would do once all this sunk in.

It seemed an eternity passed in a few simple seconds as Lily just stood there like a deer in headlights, not knowing whether or not to smile and say hello, or hold her hand out and introduce herself as 'Harry Potter's reincarnated mother', or just stand there and let them try and accept her for being there. Although she really didn't know them, they obviously knew her, just as Harry said they would. Practically everyone in the world knew her, and that was something she was going to need to get used to, as was this reaction when she was introduced to people.

"Holy bloody hell.' Muttered Ron finally, recoiling a little to his own mother.

Mrs. Weasley nodded and took his arm. "Holy bloody hell indeed."

"Look, I know what you two are thinking right now,' said Harry, rushing to Lily's side protectively. He felt her touch his hand in appreciation. 'But she's really real. I swear it to you on everything!"

Ron laughed in shock and opened and closed his mouth several times in an attempt to say something. Mrs. Weasley now looked a little less shocked, and now more threatening. Harry felt very pleased with his decision to take her wand away.

Lily stepped forward and smiled nervously. "Hi, I know this is very strange way to meet someone…'

"You can say that again.' Growled Mrs. Weasley, now looking murderous.

"Harry, what the bloody hell is going on?' demanded Ron, looking very confused. 'Who is this?"

"This is my mum, Ron.' Said Harry, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"No, she can't be!' said Ron, shaking his head. 'Your mum's…well, dead."

Harry sighed and looked down at Lily. "Yeah, she was. But this is different."

"Harry reacted exactly the same way you are, trust me. He didn't believe me either.' Said Lily, talking more to Mrs. Weasley than anyone else. She took another step forward, but Mrs. Weasley placed herself in front of Ron, watching Lily's approach like a Lioness watching an enemy trying to approach her young.

"You actually _believe_ this, Harry?' asked Ron incredulously. 'You of all people, with the amount of people that have tried to trick you in the past…'

"Yes, Ron, I know all this!' said Harry earnestly. 'I know this is difficult and almost impossible to believe, but I need you to trust me on this one. Especially you, Mrs. Weasley!"

Mrs. Weasley tore her eyes away from Lily and looked up at Harry. "I'm listening."

"Look, I didn't believe her either when she showed up.' Said Harry, closing the distance between them a little more. 'It took me a week before I even _contemplated _believing she was who she said she was. But she showed me her Patronus, and no-one can fake something so personal like that. This is _her_, you guys. This is my _mother_."

The two Weasley's still looked very reluctant to believe any of this, but Harry could tell that Ron was beginning to cave a little. His expression wasn't so hard, and he wasn't looking at Lily with confusion now so much as curiosity.

"Trust me on this, _please_…' pleaded Harry. 'This is for real."

Ron stepped cautiously around his mother and peered into Lily's face as if admiring a particularly puzzling painting by Picasso. 'So…this isn't just some trick, then?' he asked Harry.

Harry resisted the urge to laugh in relief. "No, it isn't."

"Ron, don't!' cried Mrs. Weasley as Ron took another step towards Lily. 'She could be a Death Eater for all we know!"

"I'm not a Death Eater,' said Lily with a frown. 'And I've lost count the amount of times I've repeated such a sentence in the past fortnight. You don't trust me, fine, I get that. But you can at least trust _Harry_, for goodness sake!"

"She's got a point, mum.' Muttered Ron bashfully. 'If Harry says so, then…'

"She could have confounded Harry, or put him under Imperious…"

"Harry can throw off Imperious!' said Ron. 'And confounding is not something Death Eater's do for so long. He'd become too confused to use and wouldn't be of any use. Plus, name me one Death Eater that's matched Harry so far!"

Mrs. Weasley looked at Lily once more, and Harry could practically see the wheels turning in her head trying to put all this together.

"And besides,' said Harry. 'If Ginny could accept it so quickly, then it has to be…"

"Wait a second!' cired Mrs. Weasley, looking like she were at the end of her tether. 'Ginny _knew_ about all of this?"

Harry nodded, ignoring the surprised look Lily was giving him.

Mrs. Weasley inflated and held her hand out. 'Harry, give me my wand please."

Not game to argue with her at the moment, Harry pulled the wands out and handed both hers and Ron's back to their owners. She snatched it out of his hand, took a few steps back and put the tip of her wand to her throat.

Sensing what was going to happen, Harry only had a split second to clap his hands over his ears before…

"GINERVA MOLLY WEASLEY, GET YOUR BODY DOWN HERE THIS _ISNTANT!_"

Instantly, the thump of the music stopped. There was a moment's silence, and then the sound of stomping began to rise in volume as it got closer and closer.

Mrs. Weasley smiled apologetically at Lily. "Excuse me, wont you?"

"Rant away.' Said Lily, shrugging with an easy indifference.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, and then the next moment Ginny appeared at the bottom of the stairs, her hair up in a messy ponytail and dressed in jeans and one of her brother's large t-shirts.

She gave her mother a look across the room and gestured impatiently with her hands. "What? What do you want?"

"You _knew_ about this?" cried Mrs. Weasley, pointing over at Lily.

"Knew about…'

Ginny stopped mid-retort, letting the sentence float unfinished in the air as she finally clapped eyes on Harry and Lily standing over by the fireplace. Her eyes widened and she seemed to pale, but she didn't look as shocked as her mother or brother…just a little nervous.

"Oh, er…hello.' She muttered, giving Lily a small smile.

Lily laughed and nodded back respectfully. "Nice to meet you, Ginny."

Ginny's smile grew more confident as she left the staircase to join them properly, but Mrs. Weasley still looked as though she were having a slight aneurysm.

"Ginny, _you knew about this_?' she asked.

"Well, not straight away!' said Ginny defensively. 'Harry didn't tell me until I showed up the other night and even _then_ he'd had her up in his room for just over a week!"

Mrs. Weasley inflated again in indignation, but Ron let out a triumphant cry, clapped his hands together and pointed at Harry accusingly.

"Ha! I was right!' he cried. 'You _did_ have a girl in your room that day! See? I'm not stupid! I'm no fool!"

"Well, you certainly look like one dancing around like that.' Muttered Harry, blushing.

"You knew about all this and you didn't _say anything_?' cried Mrs. Weasley.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Honestly, woman, what was I meant to say? 'Harry's mother's back to life and living with him and Sirius's mother's old house where the Order used to congregate'? Even by our standards that's ludicrous! You would have sent me off to St Mungo's, thinking I was certifiable!"

"How could you ever assume I'd think such a thing about my own daughter?"

"Well, you certainly had no problem thinking it about Uncle Mortimer! You remember him?"

"Well, that was different! He kept complaining that there were leaches in his brain, telling him to steal everyone's left shoe!"

"Turns out he was right, wasn't he?"

Lily tugged on Harry's arm. "They always like this?' she muttered.

Harry smiled and watched Ginny as she ranted; her cheeks flushing red making her look very adorable. "Yeah, pretty much."

Ron gave his mother and sister an 'I still maintain I'm adopted' look, before leaving them to row and come over to stare some more at Lily. He looked embarrassed for doing so, but didn't seem to be able to help himself.

Lily grinned at him. "Weird, isn't it?"

"Sorry, I don't mean to stare; it's just…yeah, weird.' Laughed Ron, his eyes wide with amazement. 'You're really Harry's mum, then? No joke?"

"Nope, no joke. Here…' she said, holding out her hand for him.

Ron looked hesitant, and looked up at Harry is if asking silently for permission. Harry nodded, and Ron reached out to take Lily's hand. Ron let out a surprised 'ha', and Lily gripped his hand tighter and shook it.

"Nice to finally meet you, Ron."

"Yeah!' laughed Ron, shaking her hand back with a new found enthusiasm. 'Yeah, you too!"

Ginny, who had somehow just finished the argument with her mother, was looking at their connected hands with something of a keen interest. "I still don't understand how any of this is possible. People just don't…'

"Come back from the dead. Yeah, I know.' finished Harry, nodding. 'We don't understand it either, but we can try and explain all of this to you if you'd just sit down and listen. Mrs. Weasley?"

Mrs. Weasley's ignored everyone watching her expectantly, her eyes narrowing at Lily. Not normally one to be intimidated, Lily stood her ground and stared right back defiantly, refusing to feel nervous around people her own son considered to be family.

"If you really are Lily Potter, and really Harry's mother,' said Mrs. Weasley, closing the distance between the two mothers 'Then I just want to know one thing."

Lily stood up straight, eye-to-eye with the mother hen of the Weasley clan.

"Yeah? And what's that?"

Harry felt the tension and exchanged a look with Ron and Ginny, both of whom were looking tense yet oddly entranced at the spectacle at the same time.

Mrs. Weasley gave Lily one final look, pulled her wand out…and conjured a steaming hot teapot out of thin air.

"One lump or two?" asked Mrs. Weasley, a twinkle in her eye.

Lily grinned like a Cheshire cat and laughed.

---------------

Ron laughed and reclined back on his elbows. "She was going to curse her!"

"No, she wasn't!' laughed Harry, picking blades of grass out of the lawn beneath his bare feet.

"Yeah, she was. She had that look she gets when dad brings home another muggle contraption.' Said Ron, squinting and looking up at the clear blue summer sky.

Harry grinned and leant against the stone fence they were sitting near. "Lily could have taken her."

It was just after lunch, and Harry and Ron had retreated outside for some sun and some guy talk in which they could discuss the whole situation in their usual mature manner. Ginny would have joined them, only she had stormed out of the kitchen and back up to her room halfway through lunch, finally fed up with Mrs. Weasley pointedly sharing her disgust at Ginny's deception, despite Harry's attempts to explain to Mrs. Weasley that Harry had been the one to ask her to keep it all quiet in the first place. So, while Harry and Ron were outside, Lily and Mrs. Weasley were still inside sitting at the breakfast table, no doubt chatting about all those things that mother's talked about when they were alone.

Ron looked at Harry for a moment, before hitting him playfully in the ankle. "Can you actually believe any of this? Your mother's alive! Alive and sitting in our kitchen, drinking tea!"

Harry laughed and stretched his legs out. "It's still kind of a daydream, yeah. You still mad I didn't tell you?"

"Not in the least! I get why you didn't. That's not to say that Hermione won't give you the cold shoulder over it, though."

"I can take any shoulder treatment she gives me, don't you worry.' Said Harry, grinning.

"When are you going to tell her?"

"Not sure. When she gets back from Switzerland, I suppose."

It was quite a relief for Harry that Ron now knew his secret. It had been really getting to him the past fortnight that one of the few people he really wanted to share it all with, he couldn't. He was also grateful for Ron's light attitude toward the whole situation. While Ginny and Mrs Weasley had been in shock almost to the point to accusatory, Ron had simply sat there and listened quietly, throwing in typical, well-timed humor whenever appropriate. And even though Mrs Weasley had reprimanded him a few times for doing so, Harry had never appreciated his best mates' humor more.

Ron looked at Harry hesitantly, not knowing if he was allowed to ask all the questions he had mulling around in his head. "You happy she's back?"

Harry looked up at him and blinked in amazement. "Are you serious? Of _course_ I'm happy she's back!"

"And you still don't know why she is? Or how?"

"Nope,' laughed Harry, cracking his knuckles. 'No sodding idea. And to tell you the truth, I really don't care. She's here, and that's all that matters to me."

"You're not even a little curious?"

"Well, yeah, of course I am. But like I said, it doesn't matter all that much."

Ron considered Harry for another moment. "Can I ask you something? Tell me to sod off if it's none of my business."

"Sod off.' Said Harry, smirking.

Ron laughed and waited for the moment to pass, before clearing his throat and asking hesitantly, 'Why don't you call her 'Mum'? Why do you call her 'Lily'?"

Harry clenched his jaw and looked down at his feet.

"I don't know.' He muttered bashfully. 'It just seemed more appropriate to call her Lily at the time. I can't just go around calling her 'mum'."

"No, you're right.' Said Ron, nodding. 'That'd be too weird. What kind of git goes around calling their own mother 'mum'? Merlin, the mentality of some people just astounds me."

Harry threw Ron's grin a look. "Well, you wanted to know and I told you."

Ron sighed and sat up properly. "Look, I get that this is like some sort of life changing milestone for you, not like you need another one and all, but I would have thought you'd be all over this like your cousin in a sweet shop."

"What are you trying to say, Ron?"

"Just that…you really don't seem all that excited about having your mother here.' Said Ron cautiously. 'I know you are, mate, I really do. But you just seem…distant, somehow. As though you're afraid of something."

Harry sighed, screwed his face up and ran his hands through his hair. "I hate it when you're so perceptive. Why can't you pick this time to be ditzy, like usual?"

"Sorry mate, not going to happen. Hermione and Ginny aren't here, so I have to pick up the slack."

"Promise you won't say anything to anyone?"

"Sure, of course."

Harry blew air out through his lips and squinted up toward the sun, feeling very awkward. "I just don't want to get too excited. I don't want to get…too close."

"Why?"

"Just incase…' he paused and laughed. 'Incase they decide to take her away from me again. Just incase she isn't here to stay. I lost her once, Ron. I don't think I could handle loosing her again."

Ron smiled. "Harry, I don't think they would have gone to all of the trouble of sending her to you to just take her back again. They're not _that_ cruel."

"They did it once before. What's to stop them from doing it again?"

"They didn't take her away from you last time…Voldemort did. And I doubt that even he could do it a second time, not now after everything that's happened."

But Harry only heard half of this. He was staring at Ron with wide eyes.

Ron frowned and laughed. "What?"

"You said Voldemort."

"I…I did?"

"Yeah, you did!"

Ron blinked in surprise, and then let out a short laugh. "Well, of course I did! I couldn't very well let Hermione go around saying it and me not."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, right."

"You heard from her lately?" said Ron quickly.

"No, why?"

"Oh…no reason."

Harry smiled at Ron, his ears going red as he looked down at his shoelaces with a new found interest. "Real subtle, Ron."

"Bugger off, Harry.' Snapped Ron playfully.

Harry grinned, letting Ron mull while he too considered Ron's words. He wanted to believe that Ron was right, and that she was really there to stay. But ever since he'd found out the truth it had been his number one concern. What if she wasn't going to stick around? What if she was just there for some yet to be revealed reason or hidden purpose? Harry didn't want to even think about her leaving. It had been part of the reason why he had tried to keep a subtle distance between them. If he didn't get too close, it wouldn't hurt so badly if she left again. But, what if she did leave? Would he regret not taking the time to get to know her while he had it? He'd been praying for so long to meet her; was he wasting the opportunity because he was afraid?

Ron sighed, plucked out a few blades of grass and tossed them carelessly at Harry. "You want to go play some Quidditch?"

"I didn't bring my broom."

"You can borrow Ginny's."

"Yeah, alright then."

----------------

Lily watched through the window as Harry and Ron got to their feet, shoving one another playfully and laughing over something. She smiled and propped her chin up in her hand, pleased to see Harry genuinely grinning for once.

"He's quite a boy, that son of yours.'

Lily blinked and looked around to see Mrs Weasley smiling at her knowingly from across the bench, her hands wrapped around a cup of steaming tea. Lily grinned and laughed, running a fingernail around the rim of her own forgotten teacup.

"Yes, yes he is. Just like yours!' she laughed. 'Ron's a great boy; you must be very proud of him.'

"I am, just like all my children."

"He and Harry are obviously very good friends."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Since the day they met!"

Lily looked back out through the kitchen window at the boys, off in the distance by the shed. "When did they meet? Hogwarts?"

"At Kings Cross, actually.' Said Mrs. Weasley, looking off into space as if watching the memory unfold before her. 'I was ushering the boys through the barrier, and out of no-where this boy comes up to me and asks how to get onto the platform. He was so thin, so little, but right away of course I knew who he was. Had the loveliest manners too! Despite those dreadful relatives of his raising him and all. _Oh_!"

Mrs. Weasley clapped a hand over her mouth and looked at Lily in horror. "I'm so sorry, I forgot!"

Lily smiled and shook her head. "No, it's alright. Your feelings about Petunia match mine to a T."

"So…you know all about everything then?' asked Mrs. Weasley softly. 'All that's happened with him?"

"Yeah, he explained it all to me the other day.' Said Lily, almost unable to keep her voice steady. 'It's just a lot to wrap my head around, you know? Its not every day you discover that your son's 'The Chosen One' and is meant to defeat one of the most dangerous and evil wizards of all time. Not to mention that your best friend whom you trusted with your life sold you out, your husband's best friend is dead and that Snape…'

She trailed off and clenched her jaw, looking down into the dark brown liquid off her tea in hopes of some comfort from her sadness.

Mrs. Weasley looked at her in sympathy. "You poor dear. None of this can be easy for you."

"Honestly, nothing's bothering me as much as all this stuff with Harry.' Said Lily, rubbing her jaw thoughtfully. 'All this nonsense with Voldemort, and all the things he's been put through his entire life and everything he _still_ has to do…it's just not acceptable. No-one should have to live like that; definitely not a teenage boy and most especially _not_ my son. I know I don't have to explain any of this to you, Molly, your family is caught up in the same war."

"It's alright if you want to talk, dear.'

Lily sighed and rubbed her eyes. "I do, and I'm sorry to be treating you like a shrink considering we only met just an hour and a half ago."

Mrs. Weasley laughed. "That's a mother's job! To listen to everyone's problems. Harry's family, and so are you. So, feel free to talk to your hearts content."

"You…you sure?"

"Of course I am. Now, what's bothering you?"

Lily blew air out through her lips and ran a hand through her flaming hair. "Everything. _Everything_ is. Everything here is just so different from when I left it. With all these attacks, Hogwarts possibly closing down, so many of our friends gone…it's like the life I had has just evaporated into thin air. Not that that life was any better or saner, but at least it had some sort of balance to it. I knew where I stood within it, and now…'

She paused and groaned, rubbing her forehead as if getting a migraine. 'I feel out of place here. I feel like…like I'm diagonally parked in a parallel universe."

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips and surveyed the woman across her. "But, that's not all, is it?"

Lily looked up at her and grimaced with guilt. "Well…no, not really."

"Go on then."

"It's just…it's…' she stuttered, going red. 'It's…Harry."

Mrs. Weasley frowned. "What about Harry?"

"I don't…' she laughed sadly and sighed. 'I don't know what I'm doing, Molly. I don't know how to be a mother. I couldn't even take care of him as a baby, let alone a full-grown teenager. How can I be any sort of parent to him?"

"Oh, sweetheart, is _that_ what's troubling you?' soothed Mrs. Weasley.

"I just don't get why the sent _me_ back!' laughed Lily, her eyes welling up. 'They should have sent back James. I always knew James would be the better parent, you know. He'd teach Harry how to have fun, and he'd teach him how to shave and how to romance girls – how can I compare to any of that? Harry needs a man in his life, someone he can look up to, not some mother who sits at home worrying her socks off about him when he rides off into the sunset to save the world!"

Mrs. Weasley fixed her with a stern look. "Now you listen to me; there is no way on earth that one parent is ever any better than the other, or that just because you're the mother does that make you any less valuable in Harry's life. Trust me, Lily; Harry's had his fair share of male role models to look up to. Each of them has taught him and molded him into the fine young man you know today. Maybe what he needs now is a mother."

Lily looked hesitant to believe her. "You really think so?"

"Who are we to question Fate's reasoning?' smiled Mrs. Weasley. 'I know Harry loves you just as much as he would have loved James, and you should be thanking the Fates that they sent you back, instead of cursing them for not sending James instead."

"I am thankful.' Muttered Lily, looking bashful. 'But I just…I just don't know what I'm _doing_!"

"What parent does?' laughed Mrs. Weasley.

Lily gave her a look. "Oh please, you've had seven! You could write the _Encyclopedia_ on parenting!"

"Hardly! All of them were different. Bill was calm and gentle, Charlie was hyperactive, Fred and George were cheeky, Percy was haughty, Ron was shy and funny and Ginny…well, Ginny was a mixture of them all, actually.' Said Mrs. Weasley thoughtfully. 'But do you think Arthur and I had any clue on how to raise them? Not a chance! It's the biggest guessing game there is, raising children."

"But your kids weren't like Harry.' Said Lily with a smile.

"No kids are like Harry.' Said Mrs. Weasley simply. 'You could spend a hundred years trying to define Harry and you never could."

"Doesn't mean I'm not going to give it a damn-good try.' Said Lily with a determined grin. 'I know that he's all grown up, but there are still many things he needs to learn from me. Things that no-one can teach him but his mother. I'll try to do the best I can, and raise him like anyone else would a son. But I have to keep in mind that Harry's a hero, and heroes aren't like everyone else."

Mrs. Weasley smiled and nodded. "Well said, dear."

Lily smiled and gazed at the woman across from her for a long moment. "Thank you, Molly."

"Oh, heavens, what on earth for?"

"For everything you've done for that boof-head son of mine in the past.' Grinned Lily. 'All that you've done for him… well, you'll have no idea how much it means to me. Or to Harry."

Mrs. Weasley smiled and bowed her head respectfully. "It was my pleasure, no thanks necessary."

Lily smiled and raised her teacup. "To us! Mother's of heroes."

Mrs. Weasley laughed and raised her cup. "To us!"

* * *

A/N – Another long one! You guys must be getting sick of them! Let me know your favorite bits, or if you even liked it at all!

Please review!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11!

* * *

The quill in Harry's hand flew over the parchment with a cramped uneasiness as he hurriedly jotted down more notes, memories and key words in his spiky, messy scrawl. He knew he had to get it all down in an eligible manner before he lost his train of thought, which was a frustratingly common occurrence with him. He'd been writing for ages, non-stop, and his right hand was starting to cramp. There were ink smudges all over the tips of his fingers and back off his hand, covering up the white indents of the sentence 'I must not tell lies'.

Harry finished his sentence with an insistent full-stop and relaxed. Every muscle in his back, from his shoulders right down to the tips of his fingers was tense and tight from the excitement and urgency of his sudden epiphany. He groaned under his breath and flexed the fingers of his right hand, rolling and flexing his shoulders and rolling his head around in circles to relax his neck.

Sitting back in his seat with a sigh, Harry looked around his desk with tired eyes. It was as in disarray as his old desk had been back at Privet Drive. It was his organized chaos, and so long as no-one moved so much as a single tiny piece of parchment with nothing but one word written on it, he would be happy. He knew where everything was, so if he needed to cross-reference something he could seize it up in a second and not have to wade through a river of papers just to find it.

Harry looked at his watch; it was only just past three. He groaned, tossed his glasses onto the desk, put his elbows on the desk and put his face in his hands. It felt like he'd been sitting there for a year, plotting all sorts of strategies for his troops to ready them for battle, when in reality he'd only been up in his room, hunched over his desk for a few hours. It was becoming a sort of routine for him as of late. After lunch, he would tramps up to his room and throw himself into everything he had ever learnt from Dumbledore, trying to piece together every single scrap of information he could to try and find something, _anything_ that would help exploit Voldemort's weakness. Harry knew there was one – everyone had a weakness. No-one was immune to one, no matter how much they boasted about it.

Harry felt a pair of hands close over his shoulders and give them a soothing rub, followed by a cheery voice in his ear saying, 'Hello, Sunny-Jim."

Harry smiled and looked around at the blurry outline of red hair. "Hey, sorry…I was just taking a moment to rest my eyes."

Lily smiled, handed him his glasses and rested against the edge of the desk. "And what lovely eyes they are."

"You're just saying that because they're like yours."

"Oh my god, they are really?"

Harry snorted, cleaned his glasses with the corner of his shirt and slipped them on. "What do you want? I'm very busy and important."

"So the Daily Prophet likes to remind us.' She said, picking up the parchment he had been writing on and reading over it absentmindedly. 'Honestly, they go on about how you're the best thing since sliced bread…but have they seen the state of your room? Have they seen the way you fold your clothes after I go to the trouble of ironing them? I'm sure the public would have a very different point of view on the so-called 'Boy-who-lived' when they find out he's the least domesticated teenager this side of Birmingham."

"Okay, I'm not _that_ bad."

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Oh, really? Let's examine the evidence, Mr. Auror-wannabe! If the court could please turn there attention to…exhibit A, B, C, D and E!"

She waved a hand around the room, placing particular emphasis on the pile of clothes stuffed in his corner, his books scattered around the floor and his desk behind her to name only a few points.

"I would have thought Petunia would have taught you at least basic cleanliness.' Said Lily, sniffing with an indignant air.

Harry snorted. "She did, after a fashion."

"Getting you to do all her housework like some sort of slave is not proper teaching.' Said Lily pompously. 'Don't worry, you're not the first one she's done it to either. 'Oh, Lily, can you take my laundry to the wash?', 'Lily? Can you dust under there? My shoulder hurts.', 'Oh, Lily will do the dishes for me, wont you, Lily?'. She always liked sneaking her way out of things if she could, the silly cow. It doesn't surprise me she got you to do all the heavy labor. Let me guess, she got you weeding the gardens and washing dishes all the time, didn't she?"

"Yeah, actually she did! How'd you know?"

"She always hated those jobs. Made her toes curl with disgust.' Said Lily, smiling at the memory. 'Anything that involved getting her hands dirty. I never had a problem with it, but Petunia always was a bit of a clean freak."

"I hadn't noticed.' Said Harry.

Lily threw him a look. "Apparently not, because the amount of information you have retained about proper house care is minus four."

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Is there a reason you came up to see me? Or do you just like to come up here and lower my confidence like a good, normal parent?"

"Believe it or not, I have purposeful destinations when I take the risk of walking the hallways of this place.' She said, nudging him playfully with her knee. 'I came up here to see what you're doing."

"I'm knitting a jumper.' He said, deadpan.

"That is not what I meant. Have you been sitting here since lunch?' she asked, looking at the papers on the desk behind her.

Harry folded his arms over his chest. "Well, yeah."

"Without any sunlight or fresh air? Harry, you shouldn't be sitting in here. It's stuffy."

"Its fine, don't fuss."

"I'm your mother; it's my god-given right to fuss over silly little things like my son getting such an insignificant thing like oxygen. Besides, people may make a horrid assumption that you've become a Vampire."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Woman, get out. I want to brood over my unfair adolescent existence some more, and I cant do it with you sitting there being all sarcastic and perky."

Lily sighed and took his face in her hands. "Oh, my darling, would you prefer I be surly and judgmental like all the other mummies and daddies?"

"I'd prefer,' he said, taking her wrists 'That you would not fuss over me like some china doll. I can take care of myself."

"I didn't…I mean, I wasn't…' she stuttered, taking her hands back. "Harry, I wasn't implying you couldn't."

Harry pursed his lips and swung his chair from side to side. "I know, I'm sorry. It's just always been hard to get used to, you know? Having people fuss over me."

Lily gazed at him, feeling her heart break in that familiar place whenever the issue of her not having ever been there during his childhood was brought up to the surface. It hurt, and she had no doubt that it would always hurt.

She shivered and smiled down at him. "Why don't you get out for a while? Its beautiful outside, I just stuck my head out a moment ago. Nice south-easterly breeze."

"Ah, I don't know.' He said, looking reluctant.

"Well, I do. You need to get out.' She said, leaping to her feet. 'Sitting inside all the time is for incompetent old men who can't control their erections anymore. Off with you, you're young and in desperate need of a life."

Harry laughed as she slipped her hands under his armpits and shakily heaved up onto his feet. "But, I can't! I have to study, and…'

"Don't be absurd, it can wait! Voldemort isn't going anywhere…unfortunately.' She added irritably under her breath. 'Why don't you go for a walk? Or go to The Burrow? You could go see Ron."

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Ron?"

Lily bit her lip and fussed over his shirt. "Yeah, or…you know…whoever else is there."

Harry paused and looked down at her, feeling a deep suspicious rise up in him. "Could you possibly be referring to the youngest, female Weasley that I very coincidently used to date?

"Well, you would like to see her surely, wouldn't you?"

Harry frowned down at her. She was refusing to meet his eyes, and the corner of her mouth was twitching. "What are you very subtly trying to say, Lily?"

Lily sighed and put her hands on his chest affectionately. "Just that…you should go see her."

"Why?"

"Well, because…you still fancy her. At least that's the impression _I_ got."

Harry laughed nervously and backed away from her. "I…what?

Lily smiled. "Oh please, don't think you can fool me, Harry James Potter. You get that goofy look on your face whenever she's mentioned, just like your father used to get whenever I walked past him in the hallways. And I know you broke up, but that was only a few months ago, and only because you went all Spiderman on her and said she couldn't be with you because it would be too dangerous."

"You don't know anything about it!' he snapped. 'And I was _not_ like Spiderman!"

"Well, you have to admit, there are a lot of similarities between you and Peter Parker. For one thing, you both have this thing about wearing glasses and flying off to help people, of course Spiderman didn't use brooms but…'

"Will this conversation have a point anytime soon?

She sighed and crossed to him. "Harry, I understand why you did it, I really do. But did you really think it all through?"

"Oh, lets see, did I think through the possibility of her being hurt or killed if she stuck with me?' he said, every word dripping with sarcasm. 'The thought may have crossed my mind, yes!"

"Harry…'

"It's in her best interests.' Said Harry flatly. But even his dead tone could not hide his disappointment and sadness that his life had come to this, not being able to be with the one girl he so desperately cared for.

"And what about you, Harry? Is it in your best interests?' said Lily, making him look at her. 'You know you can save the _whole world_, but you have to take care of your own heart too."

Harry gazed at her for a moment, before clenching his jaw and looking away. He really didn't want to talk about of this now, especially with his mother, and she seemed to sense that. She cleared her throat and took a small step away from him, giving him his space.

"Look, alright, no Burrow then. Why don't you go down to the shop,' she said, retrieving her wallet out of her pocket and shuffling through it, 'And get some milk?"

Harry looked down at the twenty pound note she was holding out in amazement, before looking up at her grin. "Milk?"

"Yeah, sure. And buy yourself something too. Oh, and can you pick me up a box of Oreos? I'm having cravings like no-body's business. Like, 'pregnant woman' cravings."

"Lily…the cupboards downstairs are self filling. We don't _need_ milk."

"_Yes_, Harry, we _do_!' she said, grabbing his shoulders and guiding him toward the door. 'And you'll have to walk all the way down to the shop to get it in such horrendous weather."

Harry stopped in the doorway and laughed, turning back around to face her. She was smiling at him expectantly, her deep red hair framing her face and her emerald eyes wide with amusement.

He bit his lip bashfully. "Can I get cookie dough?"

"You're not going to eat it raw, are you?" she asked, cringing.

"Is there any other way to eat it?"

"Well, call me crazy, but some people like to actually bake it in something we call 'an oven.'"

Harry snorted. "Okay Crazy, let me guess, you used to eat raw cookie dough all the time as well, didn't you?

Lily stuck her tongue out in disgust. "Yech, _no!_ To me, there's nothing better than a warm, baked cookie. But James used to hover over my shoulder, peering into the bowl hungrily whenever I tried to make some. He absolutely loved the stuff! The amount of times I had to jinx him to keep his grubby little fingers out of my cooking bowl…well, it's a wonder he could still walk without a limp."

"So, you want me to get out of the house? Is that was you're saying to me?"

Lily sighed, grabbed his face in her hands and gave him a long, hard, wet kiss on the cheek. "I love how quick you are. Now get!"

Harry stumbled as she pushed him out into the hall and laughed. "But, what are _you_ going to do?"

She grinned at him, pulled her wand out, waved it and a conjured up a normal, muggle broomstick out of thin air.

"Housework! The state of this house is simply dreadful, and not at all fit for a Potter to live in. Not to mention those Dust Bunnies under the bench in the kitchen are giving me the heebie-jeebies."

--------------------

Harry turned into aisle three and surveyed the shelves, his shopping basket swinging at his side containing a litre of unnecessary milk and a carton of Oreo's that apparently were being craved beyond epic proportions. All that was left on his list was his cookie dough.

He grinned to himself as he looked up and down the shelves, slowly making his way down the aisle. He'd never been allowed cookie dough all to himself when he was younger; he'd always end up getting the tiniest little scraps from the bowl after Dudley was finished gorging himself, or miss out completely. He'd gotten his first taste for it when he was four, and he had stuck his finger into the bowl when Aunt Petunia had her back turned, giving Dudley his seventh Popsicle from the ice-box. Ever since then, he'd always taken any opportunity to get at cookie dough that was presented him.

It pleased him to know that his father had the same weakness.

_Yep, that's how He'll beat me,_ mused Harry, running his eyes over the jars of peanut butter_. Offer me cookie dough_.

Harry stopped in front of the strawberry jam and sighed, feeling another pang hit him. Ginny liked jam. She would put it on ice-cream if she could. Every morning, it was the first and only thing she would put it on her toast. She'd layer it on so thick you could barely see the crusty toast underneath. She would take any flavour, but her love was always strawberry.

Tearing his eyes away from the jar of red, gooey substance, Harry continued his slow progression down the aisle, listening to the faint music above him. He squinted against the bright fluorescent lighting and chewed on the inside of his cheek. He hadn't meant to snap at Lily before when she asked about Ginny, but he had just felt threatened for some reason. Like she had backed him into a corner. He knew it was ludicrous, as he knew she would never do such a thing to him intentionally. He would have to lighten up in that area.

It was just difficult talking about his situation with anybody, especially his mother. He'd never had a chance how to learn how to talk to parents about issues such as these. And it wasn't that he didn't want to talk to her, it was just that he didn't know how. She was different from any other mothers he knew.

_I wonder if Ginny talks to Mrs. Weasley_. He thought, leaving that aisle and going into the next. _I suppose she would, being her mum and all._

But he couldn't talk to Lily about Ginny, could he? Wouldn't he need a guy's opinion for all this? Wouldn't Lily be confused at Harry's point of view, being a woman and all? It was just all far too complex to dwell on, especially now. He didn't need to add dysfunctional relationship problems to his list of issues at the moment. He'd go insane, like another episode of Party of Five.

_Full cream milk, low fat milk, high Folate milk, chocolate milk…blimey, how do cows make all this?_ He wondered, reading the labels of the milk as he stepped around an old lady pushing a trolley. He'd already been down this aisle already, and the sense of one going around in circles was starting to arise.

Not able to be bothered to turn around and go back, he sighed and continued his slow stroll down the aisle. He wondered then, for some reason, what Voldemort was doing now. He bet that Voldemort didn't go down to the supermarket with twenty pounds and went shopping for milk. He had minions to do that for him.

_Maybe I should get some minions._ Thought Harry, passing by the yoghurt. _Would save a lot of time grocery shopping, wouldn't it?_

Harry didn't know what was up with him lately. His mind was all over the place. One minute he was concentrating on his task so much his brain felt as if it would implode, and the next he was making snide, sarcastic remarks and stupid jokes. Was he going to be one of those people that war sent around the bend? It certainly seemed that way.

_Eggs, butter, cheese… _

"Aha! Cookie dough.' He cheered to himself, admiring the many different varieties before him.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing he was taking some time off. Like Lily had said, Voldemort wasn't going anywhere. Surely no-one was going to condemn him for taking half an hour off to go down to the store and pick up some cookie dough!

_Mmm, cookie dough_. He thought happily, seizing up a packet and storing it in his basket possessively. _The weakness of all great minds. I wonder if Voldemort likes cookie dough…_

Harry quickly made his way up to the express checkout, paid for his loot and headed outside with a large plastic bag in his hand, hanging down by his side. He paused just as he went to cross through the car park and looked around. Muggles were all over the place, grabbing shopping carts from the front of the store, packing their cars full of bags of groceries, putting their excited kids into the back seats…and for some reason, it made Harry grin.

Shaking himself, he walked out of the parking lot, crossed the road and made his way around to the back of an old, abandoned house just four houses down. Once out of sight, he pulled his wand out, concentrated really hard and even though he was without a license, disapparated out of the neighbourhood and appeared instantly in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

"Hey, I'm back!' he called, putting the groceries up on the table with a happy grunt. 'I got the Oreo's, so the hypothetical virgin baby can stay firmly wedged up in…'

But he stopped mid-sentence as he heard a crash from upstairs, followed by a rather hysterical shriek of what was undoubtedly a curse.

Feeling very alarmed and suddenly very alert, Harry dropped everything he was doing, spun around and pelted up the stairs two at a time. His wand was out before he even reached the entry way. He skidded on the rug, righted himself as he smacked into the wall and followed the noise and flashes of light until he reached the living room.

And he stopped dead, his eyes wide with what he was seeing.

Lily was crouched behind the sofa, which was ripped with stuffing and shreds of cloth all over the place, her wand in her hand and peering over the top. The room was in a complete mess, with the shelves cracked and broken, books and portraits lying all over the place completely ruined, there was dust flying about the air and there was the heavy shiver of magic in the air. But standing over by a cracked chair, half hidden behind a tilted bookcase…was Hermione.

He saw all this in only a split second, for that's all the pause that was allowed before Lily leapt up, vaulted over the couch, pointed her wand at Hermione and shouted "_Expelliarmus_!"

"_Protego_!" shouted Hermione, coming out and deflecting the attack. The spell bounced off the shield and flew into the wall, splintering the plaster.

She came out and threw spell after spell at Lily, her stance high and confident and full of power. "_Stupefy! Diffindo! Immobulus! Incarcerous_!"

Lily deflected all the others with an easy grace of experience, but when ropes came flying out at her she waved her wand at them and they turned into flowers, hitting her harmlessly in the chest. Hermione only had a split second to dodge as Lily threw another powerful spell back at her, this one creating a gaping hole in the rug on the floor.

Hermione jumped up, flipped her hair out of her face and flashed her wand at Lily as if casting a rod into the ocean. Lily cried out in surprise and leapt out of the way just as a flock of birds came hurtling toward her.

"Didn't think I knew non-verbal spells, _did you_?" shrieked Hermione madly.

"Don't talk to me about non-verbal spells!' shouted Lily angrily, pointing her wand at Hermione, flicking it upward and sending Hermione flying into the wall behind her. 'I was casting them while you were still in diapers!"

Hermione let out an angry cry, got to her knees and shouted '_RELASHIO_!"

Lily's eyes widened and she threw up a shield only just in time. The red sparks went up in a glorious fireworks display, but Harry didn't take any notice of it. Lily was on the floor from the force of the impact, army crawling while Hermione, her eyes wide with anger and determination, was throwing pieces of furniture out of her way with her wand to get to Lily.

Hermione jumped back as Lily kicked out with her legs, trying to trip Hermione up. Lily sprang to her feet as Hermione recovered and ran forward with a cry, grabbing Hermione around the middle and ramming her backward into the wall. Hermione let out a cry of pain as her back hit the wall, dropping her wand to the floor with a clatter. Her face contorted in anger, she let out another cry and shoved Lily off her hard, sending Lily crashing to the floor again. Hermione seized up her wand just as Lily crawled backward, and pointed her wand down at Lily.

Harry eyes widened as he realized what it was Hermione was about to do. "No, Hermione, wait!"

"_Furnucu_-"

"_Protego_!"

The spell went flying off into the chandelier, smashing the crystal as Harry jumped in front of Lily, wand out and stance ready.

Hermione's eyes widened, but Harry quickly commanded '_Pertrificus Totalus_!', and she went as stiff as a board, completely unable to move any part of her body but her eyes.

Harry sighed with relief and gave Hermione a look of apology, before looking down at his mother. She was pulling herself to her feet, grabbing her wand in a death-like grip and looking at her son and Hermione in confusion.

Harry just looked at her in amazement as she got to her feet.

"What?' she said defensively. 'I didn't start this!"

"What the _hell_ are you _doing_?"

"I didn't do _anything_! There I was, dusting the mantelpiece, and _she_ came in here and started cursing me!' cried Lily, waving a hand at Hermione. 'Crazy bint! Nearly took my head off with a Severing Charm!"

Harry was at a loss for words. He looked over at Hermione, stiff as a board and shivered at the murderous death glare she was giving him.

"Don't look at me like that!' he said, feeling the weight of her accusing stare.

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

Lily was looking at Harry, then Hermione, then back at Harry again with confusion all over her face. "Harry…you _know_ her?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's Hermione you crazy psycho!'

"Hermione? As in…'

"My best friend Hermione? Yes!' cried Harry, putting his wand away. 'Who the bloody hell else did you think she was?"

Lily blushed. 'A Death Eater."

Harry stared at her in amazement.

"Well what was I _supposed_ to think, Harry?' shouted Lily, looking very embarrassed. 'Some girl comes in here, takes one look at me and tried to kill me? That they're a friend of yours is definitely not my first thought!"

Harry sighed and looked over at Hermione. She was still standing upright, and no longer looked murderous so much as angrily confused. Harry had to suppress a smile; it must have been killing her not knowing what was going on, or being able to work it all out on her own.

"Look, er, perhaps for the sake of the remainder of my furniture, you could go into another room so I could explain all this to her.' Muttered Harry.

Lily frowned and looked at Hermione. "I don't know… she looks ready to chew nails."

There was a grunt from Hermione, but nothing more.

Harry snorted. "I can handle it. Just for a while, will you?"

"Harry, I don't…"

"Mum, please?"

Lily froze at that. She looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised that he had chosen then, of all possible moments, to start calling her that. He was just looking at her, slightly surprised at the word that had come out of his mouth, but determined all the same. She didn't mind at all though.

After a long moment passed, she gave him a small smile and nodded. "Sure. I'll just be…down in the kitchen."

She gave Hermione one last look, before stuffing her wand in her back pocket and leaving the two teens alone in the room.

Harry blew air out through his lips as he watched her go. He then ruffled his hair and turned back to Hermione, feeling a pang of guilt for having petrified her. He was tempted to leave her like that, just so he could explain without her interrupting or cursing his ass in retaliation, but he pulled his wand out and released her anyway.

Hermione stumbled forward, but steadied herself almost immediately. She shook herself of the spell, took in a deep breath and looked at Harry.

Harry shrugged and smiled guilty, bashfully jabbing a finger at the door. "My mum.'

Hermione's eyes widened. "Are you INSANE?"

"Shh! Hermione, don't shout…'

"Don't shout? DON'T _SHOUT_?' she shrieked, waving her hands in the air. 'I come home from Switzerland to see you, I get into a battle with your 'supposedly' death mother, you step in, jinx me…and all you can say for yourself is 'my mum'? Are you certifiably insane, Harry? Because if you're not, you're going to have a HELL of a time convincing me otherwise!"

Harry winced as she closed the distance between them and smacked him on the arm. "See, now…this is not the proper attitude to have when you've just come home from holiday."

"HARRY JAMES POTTER….'

"AL_RIGHT_!' he shouted, rolling his eyes. 'Just shut _UP_, will you? You sound like a bloody Banshee! How can I explain any of this to you if you keep screaming at me all the time?"

Hermione considered him with a furious gaze for a moment, before sitting herself down in one of the only chairs that weren't broken and folding her arms over her chest.

"You have ten minutes. And this had better be good."

--------------

Lily blew air through her lips as she dunked her fifth Oreo into her glass of milk. It really was rather boring to have to wait for someone. She hadn't felt so bored since the last time she's waited up in Gryffindor Tower for James to get back from his latest detention.

She wondered, for the hundredth time that hour, what was going on upstairs. She had judged that Harry was going to have a hard time with this one. Hermione struck her as the hot-headed type, always having to be right and always having to have an explanation for everything. She didn't envy Harry at all on this one. Ron had been easy and accepting, but Hermione certainly wasn't going to be so simple.

Still, even though she had tried to kill her, Lily did find herself liking Hermione's gusto. She was a hell of a Charmer, and could have easily taken on any Death Eater she faced! She was quick and powerful…not to mention she had a broad knowledge of spells. She was assertive and confident, and just the sort of girl she wanted Harry hanging around.

Lily's grin widened, the mantra that had been echoing through her head increasing in volume.

_Mum, please…Mum, please…Mum…Mum… _

Wasn't it every woman's dream, to hear that word come out of your child's mouth for the first time? Considering how much he'd been insisting on calling her Lily for the past few weeks, it was even more momentous. She really didn't know why he had suddenly changed his mind about the way her perceived her, but she wasn't going to push him trying to find out why.

Lily dropped her Oreo into her milk with a splash as she zoned back into her surroundings with a fright. There were footsteps approaching, and soon enough Harry entered the room, followed closely by a strangely timid looking Hermione.

"Now, lets try this again you two.' Said Harry, holding his hands up defensively. 'And without the violence."

"Mrs. Potter, I am so unbelievably sorry!' cried Hermione, shoving Harry aside and rushing over to where Lily was sitting. 'I really had no idea about you being here, and had I known I _certainly_ wouldn't have hit you with that Jelly Legs Curse, because I immediately thought what Harry thought upon seeing you that you were a Death Eater and I reacted in the way I thought I should and…'

"It's alright!' laughed Lily, getting to her feet. 'Take a breath."

Hermione took a few deep breaths as Harry sat himself down on the table, chuckling to himself.

"Harry explained everything to you then?" asked Lily.

"I was very reluctant to believe him, but I at the end of the day I do trust him.' Said Hermione. 'It's just very hard to believe as you no doubt can imagine, Mrs. Potter."

Lily laughed and waved a hand. "Oh, Lord, don't call me that! Makes me feel like some old spinster. It's Lily.'

Hermione nodded and shook Lily's outstretched hand. "I'm Hermione."

"Is that like Cher, or Madonna, or is there a last name that goes with that?"

"Granger. Sorry…Hermione Granger."

Lily grinned and folded her arms over her chest, surveying Hermione appraisingly. "So, the famous Hermione, eh? Harry's told me a lot about you. Of course, he did neglect to give me any description of what you looked like, for had he actually bothered to do so we probably would have had a different reaction to one another earlier this afternoon."

Hermione laughed. "Harry can be like that."

"You know, I _am _sitting right here." Said Harry.

"Oh, shut it you. We're talking about you not to you." Said Lily.

Harry grinned and stayed silent as Hermione and Lily began creating conversation. It was nice to see the two of them interacting peacefully instead of trying to kill one another, just as it had been to see Ron and Lily interacting. He was glad that Hermione had at least accepted what he had explained to her; even though he could tell it frustrated her beyond belief that she didn't quite understand how any of it was possible. She'd been very good during his explanation, and only interrupted a few times even though she had wanted to a lot more. She'd been stubborn about it at first, but once he had finally managed to convince her, she'd relaxed and apologized profoundly for attacking his mother.

Words he never thought he would ever hear.

"Anyhow, it's all water under the bridge.' Laughed Lily, shrugging happily and giving Hermione a huge grin. 'Hermione, you must stay for dinner."

Hermione laughed nervously and looked at Harry and Lily in turn. "Oh, I don't know. Surely you don't want me being a third wheel and all…'

"Nonsense! I insist.' Said Lily, slipping her hands in her back pockets. 'Harry, tell Hermione she has to stay for dinner."

Harry looked at Hermione. "She has to stay for dinner."

"You…you don't mind?' she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Do I seem the sort of person who minds?' asked Harry, grinning. 'Besides, I want to hear if you ran into the Abominable Snowman on your trips."

"Oh, Harry, don't be absurd.' Sighed Hermione. 'Everyone knows they're native to Greenland."

"Good, it's settled then.' Said Lily. 'It'll be a good way to apologize for trying to hex you. I really am sorry I slammed you into that wall, you know."

Hermione smiled bashfully. "And I'm sorry I tired to hex you."

"Oh, no, happens all the time.' Said Lily, grinning. "Now, you two catch up while I get to work, yes? I'm making Beef Stroganoff tonight, Harry's favorite."

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A/N – how was that? Good? Tell me your fave parts, I love getting that feedback!

Please review!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12!

* * *

Lily looked up from her paper and grinned. "Morning my lovely!"

Harry, who had just entered the kitchen with his hair actually flat, his pajamas wrinkled and his feet bare, groaned some sort of response and stumbled over to the table, flopping down into a chair opposite his mother.

"My, you're a right little ray of sunshine this morning, aren't you?' she giggled.

Harry rubbed his half-closed eyes and snorted. "S'too early."

"Harry, its ten thirty."

"Mmm…s'too early."

Lily rolled her eyes and pushed the jug of orange juice toward him. "Here, have some. Life will seem so much prettier once you've had a good glass of that."

"Says you.' He muttered, pushing it back to her. 'And how can you be so…_perky_ in the morning?"

"I don't know, just the way I am." She said simply, going back to her paper.

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes, taking a plain piece of toast from the array of choices Lily had evidently cooked and set up on the table. Chewing on it idly, he willed himself to wretch away from the seductive grasp of slumber and wake up properly. He looked at his mother across from him and smirked. Her face was hidden behind the paper; all that could be seen were two bright green eyes and a dome of tied-up fiery red hair. She slept with her hair tied up to save it from tangling.

"Don't you have work today?' he asked.

"Not for another hour, and its only a quick shift today.'

Harry nodded and propped his chin up in the heel of his hand.

Lily peered over the top of her paper and surveyed him as he stared off into space. 'Are you alright? You look a little…distant."

"Not to worry, it's just my 'pensive' expression. Also known as my 'Idle', 'Bored' and 'Drunk' expression.' He said fatly.

"Harry, I'm serious. I know you just woke up and all, but…well…what's the matter?' she asked putting her paper down.

He ruffled his hair and blew air out through his lips. "It's nothing. Just a bit of a rough night, is all."

Lily winced, but hid it. "More nightmares?"

"No, thank God.' He said, unable to hide his relief. 'I was just up until late – thinking."

"About?"

"The bane of my existence."

"Ah, lip-gloss."

"No!' cried Harry, horrified at his mother's giggles. '_Horcruxes_, you evil witch."

"What about them? Besides the obvious, of course."

Harry sighed and tapped the tabletop with his index finger. "There's something about them that's bugging me. Like…the answer to one of them has been sitting in front of my face all this time and I just haven't seen it. But every time I try to think about it, it slips away. It's like trying to hold water in my bare hands, and it's just so infuriating!"

He fisted his hair in his hands in irritation and sighed.

Lily reached her arm out to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, but decided against it. She didn't know if he would accept the gesture, or shrug it off embarrassingly. It pained her that she didn't know him so well yet.

"You shouldn't get so worked up about all this." She said soothingly.

"I…_what_?' he laughed incredulously. 'Oh, you're right; it's only the fate of everyone in the world we're talking about! A casual approach is just what's needed."

"That,' she said firmly, 'is not what I meant. You don't have to do any of this alone, Harry. You've got Ron, and Hermione, and Ginny, and me…'

"I know, Mum. But you can't ask me to relinquish any of this to anyone anymore than you can ask me to stop breathing, or stop being a wizard, or stop being Harry Potter.' He said, giving her a look. 'It's who I am. And it's taken me seven years to accept it. I won't be going back on this; it's not in me to do so."

Lily pursed her lips. "You're not being weak letting people help you, you know. Voldemort has people helping him."

"If Voldemort jumped off a bridge, would you want me to do that too?"

"No, I'd want you to stand there on the bridge and applaud."

Harry smirked, unable to resist.

Lily smiled, leant over the table and kissed him on the forehead. "Just eat your breakfast, alright? And next time you decide to pull an all-nighter worrying about Horcruxes and all other aspects of impending doom, you let me know so I can sit and fret with you."

"I'll keep that generous offer in mind, thanks, Mum."

She gave him a curt nod and went back to her paper.

Harry smiled and grabbed another piece of toast, feeling that familiar tingle in his chest he got whenever he called her 'Mum'. He knew he was foolish for not wanting to call her it sooner, as it was one of the best feelings in the world. He'd waited seventeen years to be able to call anyone such a name – far too long in his opinion. And still, he hoped she didn't mind choosing such a moment like the other day to finally spring it on her. He hadn't expected it to some out when it did either, but it had, and he hadn't been sorry. Perhaps it was the jolt to reality, seeing her being attacked and in danger of being hurt that had shaken him to his senses. Made him realize he was being stupid for pushing her away, simply because he was afraid. What kind of leader could he be if he was afraid of his own mother?

_A big, scruffy, sissy one_. He mind responded.

A screech jolted him out of his train of thought. Harry and Lily looked around to see Hedwig fly into the room and land on the table beside Harry. She fluffed her feathers importantly, and almost seemed to give him an 'Another flight perfectly executed' smile.

"Hey girl, want some toast?' he asked.

"She's such a beautiful owl.' Remarked Lily, looking at Hedwig fondly as Harry fed her his crusts. 'Harry and Hedwig. You're like one those legendary couples, like Dumbledore and Fawkes, Elliot and ET, Sunny and Cher…'

Harry snorted. "So much useless information taking up valuable room in your brain. Ahh, thanks girl.'

He untied the letter attached to her outstretched leg with quick work. She gave a soft hoot, bounced toward Lily a little in recognition, and then flew off again out the window.

"Put a whole new meaning to the term 'Air Mail', don't they?' Said Lily.

The letter was addressed to Harry with no address, but was written in very fancy handwriting he didn't recognize. Hermione normally had very nice writing, but he'd been looking at her handwriting for years, and knew it well. This was too loopy and dramatic for Hermione.

Curiosity spiked, Harry ripped it open and jumped as a small fireworks display of flower petals burst from inside the envelope, followed by a few happy notes of some sort of melody. Harry looked up at Lily, and she was looking at the envelope with raised eyebrows.

"So, the wood Nymphs want to send their appreciation?' she asked, leaning in to peer at the envelope in interest.

"No, but close.' Muttered Harry, pulling the letter out and reading over it. 'It's an invitation."

"To what? The Annual Flower and Garden Show?"

"No, to Bill and Fleur's wedding."

"Bill…that's Ron's older brother, isn't it? The one who works at Gringotts."

"Yeah, that's him.' Nodded Harry.

The invitations seemed to be completely set out by Fleur, as Harry could see really no masculine input into the design. It was bordered with a pale blue glitter, with floral deigns and fancy comments in French and other things he knew Bill wouldn't bother to put on a simple invitation.

"What about this girl, Fleur?' asked Lily, pouring herself another juice. 'What's she like?"

"Fleur…' he paused, then grinned and passed the invite to her to read. 'Well, Ginny could give you a much better description of Fleur than I could."

Lily's eyes scanned the letter quickly as Harry stretched in his seat. "Two weeks from now, that's not bad. Gives you enough time to get ready."

"Ready?"

"Well sure, see? Its says here you need dress robes. I'm assuming you don't have any."

"I do,' he said, ruffling his hair, 'I just haven't worn them since Fourth Year, that's all."

Lily gave him a look. "And can I also assume you weren't six foot when you were fourteen?"

Harry gave her a bashful smile and shrugged.

Lily sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Okay, that settles it. I'm taking you shopping this afternoon. I'm getting you new clothes."

"What? You can't do that, you have to work."

"We can go after work."

"But, I…"

"What, you have something more important to do than spend time with your own mother?"

"No, it's just…'

"Just what?"

"You can't be seen in Diagon Alley!" he cried.

Lily blinked, then frowned. "Yes, I know that. What I was going to say, if you would let me, is that we could go into London and get you some clothes. _Muggle_ London."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "You want to get dress robes in Muggle London? From where? A costume shop?"

Lily sighed. "How on earth did I give birth to such a dim-witted son? I'm talking about a suit to wear _under_ your dress robes! You'll have to go into Hogsmeade to get your proper robes."

"Oh,' muttered Harry, feeling a little stupid at his outburst. 'Sorry."

"Hmmm.' she murmured, smirking and going back to her paper.

Finding himself with nothing to say back, Harry reached over and got himself some more toast…this time adding Peanut Butter.

------------------

Lily added up the prices on the till and smiled at the two middle-aged women across the counter. "That'll be ten forty five for the both of you, thanks!"

"Oh, indeed!' laughed the blonde lady on the right as her companion rummaged through her purse. 'Best cheesecake I've had in a good long while. Compliments to your chef, whoever the chap or lass may be."

"I'm sure he'll be very pleased to hear that, thank you ma'am." Grinned Lily, taking the twenty pound note.

"It's a shame you're only such a little shop, although come to think of it I don't really mind that.' Said the other woman happily, looking around the small café in interest. 'Other large, commercial places just don't have that homey feel to them like this place does."

Lily laughed, handed over the change and slapped the till shut with a sharp nudge of her hip. "You two ladies have a good day."

As the women left, chattering happily to themselves, Lily sighed and leant on the counter, taking a moment to admire the scenery. It was another of those days where the weather was almost impossibly perfect. The streets of London whizzed past through the massive windows that framed the front of the store, and the occasional clinking of china and the gentle rumble of low, jumbled chatter hovered in the air. Everywhere she looked there was some sort of conversation going on. By the window, a group of teenagers sat with skateboards at their feet, all of them with their hands wrapped around either a can of soda or a mug of hot chocolate. Over on the couches was an elderly couple, enjoying a cup of tea and biscuits and laughing together. Just a few feet away were two young men and a woman, chatting enthusiastically about whatever the topic of the moment was.

Lily bowed her head and ran her hands through her hair, pushing aside that re-occurring feeling of emptiness once more. Seeing such normalcy, knowing it existed, and knowing she could no longer have it was like offering her the chance to have James back, but then having the person offering it to her changing their mind and laughing in her face. It seemed cruel that everyone could laugh and joke and have tea with her friends when she could not. It wasn't that Harry wasn't wonderful company, because he was. But Harry had his own life and his own friends.

Lily wanted _her _own life, and _her_ own friends. She wanted the only one she had left. She wanted…

"Mum? Mum!"

Lily blinked and looked up to see Harry standing there, his hair windswept and a bemused expression on his face.

"You back on Earth with us? Or should I inform NASA your flight's been delayed?' he laughed.

"No, of course not, don't be silly.' She said, rubbing her eyes. 'I was just daydreaming."

Harry grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Just about done?"

"Yes, well and truly done. Merlin's ghost is it that time already?' she muttered, looking at her watch. 'Well, come on kiddo…let me just clock off and we can get going."

Lily went out the back, and Harry only had to wait a few moments before she was back with a grin on her face, slipping her sunglasses on her head and handbag on her shoulder. They walked out of the café and entered the steady stream of people walking the sidewalk.

"So, how was work?" he asked conversationally beside her.

"Yeah, same old same old. Although I did make twenty pounds in tips, so I must have been doing something right.' She laughed, slipping her sunglasses on her nose.

Harry grinned and slipped his hands in his pockets. She linked her arm with his and went on chattering away, but Harry was only half listening. He was privately enjoying the rare opportunity to be able to walk around with her in daylight, in front of hundreds of people, and not have to worry about exposing her, or being attacked. He could walk proudly and upright, and not have to be scouting around for any suspicious activity. It was one of the few times he could proudly exhibit her as his mother, and he couldn't keep the grin off his face.

"What did you do today?' she asked, looking up at him with interest.

"Well, just sat with my notes really. I kept going over the train of thought that I had going last night, and…I don't know, there's something there that I'm overlooking. Like a spell or something we could use to help track down the last four Horcruxes. I mean, Dumbledore had to find them somehow, didn't he? He couldn't have just gone all over the damn world, looking at random spots and…'

Harry stopped as he looked down at her to see her eyebrows raised.

He snorted. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

"No, don't apologize!' she laughed, giving his arm a hug. 'Rambling can be a good way to squeeze information out. It gets your thoughts flowing easier, makes the thought train go that much faster. Besides, I like watching the way you think. It's interesting."

"You find interest in the most peculiar things. Anyone ever told you that?"

"Remus used to say that often.' She smiled. 'We were usually on the same intellectual wave length, he and I, but often I would go off in tangents he just couldn't follow. He and I used to study a lot together…even before I was properly friends with the others."

Lily looked down at the pavement as they walked, but Harry didn't miss the expression of sadness flicker over her face for a single moment.

"Well, er…' he muttered, hoping to push the awkward moment aside. 'Does your supreme intellect have any ideas on how I can go about finding these Horcruxes?"

"Mmm, maybe. Not so much creating a spell or something that will help us locate them, but more the possibility of going over everything Dumbledore told you.' She said, thoughtfully staring off into space. 'Dumbledore had a very different way of thinking to the rest of us, but that didn't make him any less brilliant. He'd very rarely tell you something of little to no importance…especially about stuff like this. I think if we just sat down an analyzed everything he told you, we could worm something useful out of it. Not that your notes aren't a good idea and all, but do you have a Pensieve?"

Harry shook his head. "No, sorry. And I don't know where to get one."

"That's alright. I didn't think you'd have one."

"I think maybe I should try and get one though. Hermione would certainly benefit from it – she was always better at this sort of stuff than me."

"What, gathering information?"

"No, understanding Dumbledore."

Lily laughed. "He's not _that_ riddlesome! You just have to read between the lines. Dumbledore liked making you use your brains…assuming of course that you had any."

Harry smiled. "Must be a woman thing."

"What, having brains?"

"Yeah, that too."

"You know exactly what to say to women, I admire your courage.' She giggled, patting his arm. 'But let's see how your courage holds out when we let the tailor near your legs to measure you!"

Harry groaned as Lily dragged him into the formalwear shop.

----------------

Harry grunted as he slowly made his way down the stairs, trying to feel the next step as he carried a large box in his arms. It was full of paper and other junk he had found up in the attic, and he very desperately wanted to get rid of it all before the Dust Bunnies moved in and started chewing holes in the floorboards.

"Are you sure you're alright with that box?' called Lily's voice from the floor above.

"It's a box, not an Ox!'

"Ha! Smart ass.'

Harry grinned to himself, finally finding himself safely at the base of the stairs.

"Excuse me for being concerned about you tripping and breaking your neck!" she called.

"Voldemort's tried to kill me more times that I can count on my hands.' He called, dumping the box down in the drawing room. 'I highly doubt an obscure piece of household design will be able to competently do the job for him!"

"Oooh, that was technical. Has Hermione been teaching you new words?"

Harry rolled his eyes and made to go up the stairs again, when a sudden CRACK behind him made him pull his wand out ready and whirl around.

The man at the end of Harry's threatening gesture was none other than a rather awkward looking Remus Lupin, but Harry didn't relax.

"What did my Dad used to call your problem back in school?' he asked, eyes narrowed.

"The furry little one? Because James claimed I had a lot of problems.' Said Remus, shrugging off his clock. 'Most of which I wont even mention, because they are most certainly not G-rated and not at all for your ears."

Harry grinned and slipped his wand away. "Sorry…had to check."

"Yes, and I'm glad you're keeping up with that.' Said Remus with a grin, stepping forward to shake Harry's hand. 'I was worried that the younger ones wouldn't bother with the security measures. Sometimes teenagers can be far too reckless."

"Well, you would know."

Remus smiled and went to say something, when he suddenly frowned and began sniffing the air. "You cooking something?"

"Er, no."

"I can smell something. Something…familiar."

"Maybe you just smell me."

"No, you smell different than this."

Harry raised his eyebrows and watched Remus as he looked around curiously. "You know that whole 'identifying people by their smell' thing you do? Yeah…kinda weird."

Remus smiled. "Enough flattery, make me a cup of tea."

"Er, actually…give me two secs, will you? I have to run upstairs for something.' Said Harry, backing up toward the stairs. 'Help yourself, you know where everything is. And make me one too, will you?

"Sure, alright. You take two sugars, right?"

"Two sugars, cheers."

Acting as though the look Remus was giving him didn't faze him, Harry turned and ran back up the stairs two at a time. He power walked across the landing and into the room his mother occupied.

She was sitting on her bed, hunched over a laundry basket and folding one of his red shirts to add to the piles she had already created. She looked around at him, smiled and opened her mouth to say something, but Harry rushed forward like a shot and clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Hrrmphhh!"

"Shh! He'll hear you.' Whispered Harry, looking over his shoulder as if expecting Remus to be standing there.

Lily's eyes widened at him in question.

Harry sighed and, when he was sure she would be quiet, removed his hand from her mouth. "Remus is downstairs."

Her tense posture of surprise melted away and Lily just sat there, looking at her son and trying not to let her thumping heart beat a hole right through her ribcage. She just sat there for a moment, her mouth parted and a pensive frown on her face. Harry put his hands in his pockets, knowing that they had both just been given a violent shove into that area they'd been avoiding for the past few weeks.

"I just…came up here to tell you.' He muttered. 'So you knew to be quiet. Remus has very good hearing."

"Yes, I know.' She said flatly.

Lily bowed her head, her hair falling around her face and hiding her expression of conflict from view. Harry bit his lip, wondering if he should say something of just leave her be, before she looked up at him, her eyes hard and set in determination.

"I want to see him."

"Yeah, I know."

"No, Harry, you don't understand.' She said softly, getting to her feet. 'I'm going downstairs, right now, and I'm going to see him."

"Mum, wait!' hissed Harry, grabbing her arm as she went to walk past him. 'Just…just wait a second."

"For what?' she asked, her eyebrows raised. 'Why on earth can't I go down there and see him?"

Harry released her and ran a hand through his hair. "You know why. We set up all these boundaries about who you were going to see…"

"Yes, well… boundaries were meant to be expanded and stretched. That's why they're boundaries instead of rules – you don't have to feel guilty about breaking them."

"But…"

"No! _No_ buts!' she cried, stamping her foot like a toddler being denied candy. 'This isn't your decision to make, Harry, its _mine_! I understand you're trying to protect me, but you're not the parent here – _I_ am! I'm an adult, and I don't need you blocking the big bad world away from me. Your father couldn't do it, and you most certainly won't be either."

Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying not to let his surprise show on his face. She'd never yelled at him before like this, and he didn't quite know how to react. It was different from when Aunt Petunia used to yell at him. Aunt Petunia was always snipping at him, or glaring at him, and when she rose her voice at him it wasn't anything different from what he was used to. But Lily, who had only ever laughed with him, or smiled at him, was different. The only other time he'd really seen her like this, was when he was telling her about his past a fortnight ago. Never because of something he had said or done, and certainly never directly at him.

Lily took a deep breath and let it out slowly, composing herself. "Try and see this from my point of view, Harry. What if you were me and Ron or Hermione were downstairs right now and you were told you couldn't see them? Do you really think you could stand there and accept 'no' for an answer?"

Harry bowed his head. "Probably not, no."

"Then how can you expect _me_ to?' she asked. 'Harry, Remus is my friend. My good friend. The only one I have left. You can't expect me to hide any longer. I need him."

_Good god,_ he thought suddenly, _I'm doing the same thing Dumbledore did to Sirius!_

Harry pursed his lips and sighed. "Can we just…break it to him properly?'

Lily grinned, showing off all of her pearly whites. "Operation 'Weasley introduction'?"

Harry smiled. "It's in my trunk."

They went their separate ways, Lily up the landing toward Harry's room to fetch his Invisibility cloak, and Harry downstairs to see Remus.

Remus was sitting at the dining table when Harry entered. He was facing him, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea with a second cup in the seat opposite him. He smiled up at Harry, just as Lily had done just that morning, and Harry felt a shiver run up his spine.

"White with two sugars, all ready for you.' Said Remus, gesturing to Harry's awaiting tea. 'You know, if the Prophet ever interviews me for information, at least I can tell them how heroes have their beverages."

"You're hilarious, you know that? Probably why you're so popular at dinner parties.' Said Harry flatly, going over to the liquor cabinet.

Remus raised his eyebrows as Harry retrieved a large bottle of Firewhiskey and carried it back over to the table with him. "Erm…everything alright?"

"Of course it is, why wouldn't it be?"

"You're drinking?"

Harry laughed and sat down opposite Remus. "Don't be mental, I'm not drinking. _You_ are."

Remus tried several times to form words as Harry uncorked the bottle, leaned over the table and added a decent about of alcohol into his teacup.

"Harry…I don't need anything extra in this tea.'

"Oh, trust me…you do."

Something very strange was going on, and Remus wasn't stupid enough not to notice. Harry seemed a little fidgety as he sat back in his seat, adding a few drops of liquor to his own tea, and wouldn't look up at Remus across from him.

"So, er…' muttered Harry, clearing his throat. 'What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Who said I came over here to talk to you about anything?"

Harry gave Remus a look. "Come on, old man, I think I know by now when I'm about to receive a lecture. Especially from you."

"Hmm…' sniffed Remus, taking a sip of his tea. 'Old man indeed."

"Come on, Remus, what is it?"

Remus considered the teenager across from him for a moment, before sitting forward and resting his elbows on the table. "Harry, I wanted to talk to you about…girls."

Harry's eyes widened just that little bit. He had been expecting Remus to talk to him about Order business, or something new about Voldemorts plans, or something to do with the school…_anything_ but what he had just heard.

"Erm…you're about seven years too late to give this speech."

"No, Harry, that's not what I mean.' Said Remus shifting uncomfortably. 'Now, tell me to sod off if this is none of my business, but I saw you in London today."

Harry felt his cheeks heat up, but played it cool. "Yeah?"

"And…you were with a girl, yes?"

"Er…yes."

Remus sighed and ran his hands through his hair as Harry looked into his lap, the tension in the air increasing with the awkward pause. Harry really didn't know where Remus was going with this, and Remus didn't know if he should pry into Harry's personal life.

"Look, Harry, I know it's none of my business who you want to spend your time with, but I thought that after your whole situation with Ginny that you would…"

"Wait, hold on a second.' Said Harry, catching on. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Remus pursed his lips. "I know you're a good man, Harry…'

"Then how could you even think that I'd go with any other girl right now?' asked Harry, feeling a little outraged. 'Ginny's the only one I want, but I can't have her. And I didn't break up with her so I could have a few last goes around the track just incase I don't make it through this war, Remus; I did it to protect her! No one will _ever_ take Ginerva Molly Weasley's place, and that's one of the only few things I'm certain of anymore."

"Yes, Harry, I know."

"Then I don't understand what you're saying here!"

"I just wondered who she was, that's all!' said Remus defensively. 'What was I meant to think? You were walking down the streets of London with a red-head on your arm that wasn't Ginny! Curiosity is not a crime. If it were, you'd be serving a lifetime sentence in Azkaban by now."

Harry pursed his lips. "So…you didn't see who I was with?"

"I didn't see her face if that's what you mean."

Harry felt something brush against his shoulder, and it took him a moment to realize just what it was. He sat up a little straighter, wondering where in the room she was standing now and just how long she had been listening to them talking. Harry hadn't counted on anyone seeing him in London that afternoon, and for it to be Remus of all people…

Remus ran his finger around the edge of his teacup. "I'm not saying you have to tell me who she was, I'm just telling you that you can tell me if you ever want to, and that I'll always be there to listen, and _what is that smell_?"

He sat up straighter and looked around the room in an expression that almost matched annoyance, sniffing the air and trying desperately to think where he knew that smell from. It smelt of home-made cookies, flowers and outdoors, and he knew he'd smelt it all somewhere before…

Harry sighed and slouched in his seat. "You really want to know who she was?"

Tearing his attention away from the air, Remus looked at Harry, his nostrils flaring every few seconds as he continued to sniff. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested, yes."

Harry nodded, stood up and made his way over to the door. He pushed the door open and went to leave, but not before looking over his shoulder at Remus and smiling.

"You can come out now.' He called.

Remus frowned and opened his mouth to as Harry what he was on about, until a flash of movement to his left caught his eye. He looked around, and his eyes became the size of saucers just as Harry left the room.

* * *

A/N – I'm so sorry this took forever to get out to you guys, but I've started up a new job and I haven't had much time to be able to sit down at write! Did you like this chapter? Let me know!

Please review!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13!

* * *

"Remus…_Remus_…Remus, _please_ sit down!"

Remus continued to power walk erratically around the table, his wand pointed shakily at the woman trying to chase him down.

"No…uh uh…no way…' he insisted, shaking his head. 'You just stay away from me, you understand?"

"Remus, stand still for heavens sake! I'm trying to talk to you!"

"Stay away from me!"

"Oh really, you're just being silly."

"_Silly_?' he barked out in a bitter laugh. He stumbled over the bottom of his trousers and righted himself, just as Lily rushed around to his side of the table. He leapt up on top of the table clumsily, keeping his eye and wand on Lily. 'You keep away! Shoo!"

"'_Shoo_'?" she echoed, trying not to laugh.

Remus glared down at her, his hair wild and his eyes blazing with a growing anger. "I'm warning you, stay where you are. Don't take one step closer or I'll hex your legs off."

Lily sighed and folded her arms over her chest, letting Remus have the upper hand for the moment. He looked like a sixties housewife who had leapt up on the chair because a field mouse just ran past her feet. His knees were bended and his arm was pointed straight and hard right at her, wand steady. It wasn't really the welcome she'd been hoping for, but it was the welcome she had been expecting. After all, Hermione had attacked her in fury – Lily considered herself lucky that Remus wasn't doing the same. Remus was scary when he really got fired up.

Taking in deep breaths, Remus surveyed the woman in front of him with a steely stare that would have made the hairs on anyone else's neck stand up. He didn't know what to make of this at all. It was just too strange, too exciting, too horrible and too impossible all at the same time.

"Remus, _please_ come down so we can talk about this.' Said Lily, shoving her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

"Oh no, I think I'll just stay right here.' He growled, his eyes narrowed. 'I don't know what you expect you can say to me to make me think that _any_ of this is okay…'

"I can try and explain how this is possible.'

"No!' he cried. As he did so, some of the windowpanes cracked, but Lily didn't flinch. '_None_ of this is possible! You…being here…who you look like…it's just not possible! And don't even think for one minute that you can convince me otherwise."

Lily sighed and rubbed her eyes. "I'm sensing an impending feeling of déjà vu speeding my way, very _very_ rapidly."

"I really don't know how you've managed to hoodwink Harry into thinking you're his mother,' snapped Remus, 'but you won't convince me as easily."

"You think convincing Harry was _easy_?' she laughed. 'Try being tied to a bed for a week and see how easy _you_ find it!"

The corner of Remus's mouth twitched, but he quickly pushed away the wave of amusement and tightened his grip on his wand.

She was just looking up at him patiently with that look Lily used to give him when she was waiting for him to finish a sentence in the book they were sharing while they studied before she could turn the page. He didn't know how she knew that look, or how she had perfected it, but it was going to take a lot more than a look and a very good glamour to fool him.

Heaving another sigh, Lily made her way over to the table. Remus took a few steps back and held his wand right at her, his eyes wide and ready, but she only pulled out a chair and sat herself down, putting her feet up on the table and folding her arms over her chest.

"You want to sit down?'

"No, I do not want to sit down.' He snarled, staring down at her.

"You sure?' she giggled. 'Can't be very comfortable standing on the table-top. Unless there's something about your new occupation that you're not telling me."

Remus clenched his jaw. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Imitate her. Her sense of humor. You have no right."

Lily ran a hand through her flaming red hair. "Remus, you need to think about this logically."

"Oh, I am!' he cried, leaping down off the table, but keeping his distance, wand still pointed ready at her. 'Logically, Lily Potter died on October thirty first, sixteen years ago. Harry is living proof of that, not to mention the fact that I saw with my own two eyes Lily's body in her coffin at the funeral. The funeral I arranged and paid for! I was there at the morgue when she was identified, I was there when they put her in the ground…and I'm telling you that this,' he said, waving a hand at her, 'is not possible."

"You're right, and if I were in your shoes…which I wouldn't be because, honestly, Remus, what _were_ you thinking when you bought those…I'd be as stubborn and angry about this as you're being.' She said soothingly, sensing his distress. 'But can't you try and accept the fact that I may actually be here, now, telling you the truth? Telling you that I'm back?"

"Illogical thinking isn't something I do well.' He said, his eyes narrowed.

Lily smiled. "No, it isn't. I remember…Sirius used to yell at you for being too analytic about their pranks. You remember that time you put itching powder in Slughorn's Floo Pot, and you kept saying the odds of him using enough powder for it to even give him an itch in the armpit were very slim?"

Remus's wand lowered just that little bit, but his expression did not change. "How did you know that?"

"Oh please, all of Gryffindor Tower heard _that_ argument.' She said, examining her fingernails.

"That doesn't change anything.' He said, holding his wand up again. 'You could have gotten that information off anyone."

"Fine. I can't believe him doing this again. Ask me something only I would know. Ask me anything!"

Remus considered her for a long moment, wondering if this were some sort of ploy to get his defenses down. It was all very confusing, and this, he bet, was the intention. He could smell her; she smelt so familiar and so much like Lily used to. She smelt like Lily, she looked like Lily, she stood like Lily and spoke like Lily…but it couldn't be Lily. It just _couldn't_.

His eyes narrowed in reflection of his heightened suspicion. "What's my middle name?"

"John, after your Grandfather."

"How many OWL's did I get?"

"Twelve."

"What time of the month do I get my 'friend'?"

Lily giggled, just as she always did when he referred to it as his 'monthly friend' like a girl getting her period. "Toward the end of the month, give or take a week. Remus, these are general questions. We're not playing Jeopardy here…ask me something only _I_ would know."

Remus pursed his lips, thinking very hard. There was hardly anything just he and Lily shared. Any stories they had or jokes they shared had eventually come out as public knowledge. It had been a good deal many years since he'd thought about any of this; it had been too painful. It still was painful, and he guessed this woman, whoever she really was, didn't know how much his heart was hurting in that moment.

He shook his head and took a few more steps away. "This isn't fair. You can't just show up like this and say all this tripe, and expect me to just believe you!"

"I don't just expect you to just believe me.' she said. 'But I'd like to have the opportunity to prove to you that I'm telling you the truth."

"Even the truth can be twisted to sound like lies.' He growled. 'I'll not have you swindle me like this, and I most certainly won't allow you to do it to Harry anymore."

Lily gave him a look. "Do you think if I were a Death Eater I'd be sitting here without my wand on me, knowing you could jinx me at any bloody second?"

"Yes, because it's the last thing I'd expect.'

Lily let out a cry of frustration, throwing her hands up in the air and getting to her feet. Remus tensed up again, but she made no move toward him.

"Ask me something only I would know.' She repeated. 'What have you got to loose?"

"My sanity.' He said, his voice shaking as much as his hand. 'Not to mention the little hold I have left on my raw magic. I swear, push me further and the walls are going to splinter."

"I'm not meaning to push you.' She said softly, slowly edging toward him. 'I never do. You're one of the only people I don't have to push, because I know you're intelligent enough to take steps for yourself."

Remus grit his teeth, breathing hard through his nose. He was trying desperately to keep his wand steady. "Flattery is cheap, and will do you no good."

"Dammit, Remus…' she grunted, running hands through her hair in irritation. 'I know you know it's me. You can smell me, right? You told me years ago that every person has a distinct smell, and you also told me one night when we were particularly sloshed together that mine was a scent you could never confuse with anyone!"

His wand lowered a little.

"How…how did you know that?"

"Because it's _me_, Remus!"

Remus felt his heart thumping so hard it felt as though it were about to break through his chest. He remembered that night; The Marauders, Lily and a few other seventh years had all gotten a hold of a particularly large bottle of Firewhiskey that, funnily enough, never seemed to run out. That night she'd asked him many questions about how being a werewolf affected his life on every other day but that of the Full Moon, and being the fact that he was blind drunk, he hadn't minded sharing like he had normally. He'd told her what she smelt like, and how to him everyone had their own distinct smell.

And no-one else had been there during this conversation.

His eyes narrowed as he tensed up again, moving a little to the left to circle around her a bit.

"What did James used to keep in his sock drawer?"

"His muggle slinkie he got for his twelfth birthday. It used to fascinate him, and kept him occupied in detentions."

"Who was Sirius's first kiss?"

"His puppy, Lockie, when he was seven."

Remus paused. If she really was a Death Eater, she could have gotten this information from Peter very easily. After all, he was privy to this information, and was trusted with it as much as Lily had been. He needed something that Peter didn't know.

He gripped his wand so tightly in nervous anticipation, his knuckles were white. "What song did you say always reminded you of me?"

For a long moment, it seemed he had stumped her. It seemed he had finally broken her confident knowledge and was about to expose her for the fake he believed her to be. She was staring at him blankly, her bright green eyes locked on him as if she had spaced out.

Finally, the corner of her mouth turned upward and she broke out into a grin.

"'Ben', by Michael Jackson." She said.

Remus didn't know what was keeping him standing, because all he wanted to do was drop to his knees.

_No-one _knew that.

Lily had always said that one of her favorite songs when she was younger was 'Ben', and that the words and lyrics reminded her of Remus. She'd admitted this to him one day when they had been walking together back from a late Prefect meeting…and no-one had been in ear shot. She'd never told anyone, not even James. Only after she had died had Remus finally tracked down a copy of the song and actually listened to it to find out just why a simple muggle song would remind anyone of him.

He let his arm drop loosely at his side and stared at her, feeling a tingle spread through his body. He sniffed the air again, letting the scent that always reminded him of Lily fill his nostrils. It didn't make any sense at all.

"It's not possible.' He whispered, taking another step away.

"Not _probable_." Corrected Lily.

"It can't be you.' He muttered, peering at her inquisitively. 'It just…just _can't_ be."

"Why not?"

"Because…you're dead!' he shouted. ''No spell can reawaken the dead'. That's all Dumbledore ever told me. He said it so often it was like his damn motto for life or something."

Lily chewed on the inside of her cheek. "Dumbledore didn't know everything about everything. He wasn't some sort of scholar with an IQ of two hundred and sixty…although sometimes it seemed that way."

Remus felt his eyes beginning to sting as hope and want began to violent shove his denial and anger aside. _Could_ it be her? Logically, his mind was telling him that it couldn't really be true. And yet, all these other factors were demanding that he consider the possibilities.

If it walks like a duck and looks like a duck and smells like a duck…

"Look, there's a way I can definitely prove it to you,' she said, edging toward the kitchen door, 'but you have to let me get my wand."

Remus tensed up again and pointed his wand at her. "How? How are you going to prove it to me?"

"Well, Harry believed me when I showed him my Patronus.' She said, pushing the kitchen door inward but not entering. 'Maybe you will too – although I'm not entirely sure why _that, _of all things, convinced him."

"He…asked to see your Patronus?' asked Remus softly.

Lily nodded.

"Did he say why?"

Lily shook her head.

Remus swallowed back and felt himself break out into a sweat. She was looking at him with concern, but didn't come forward. He didn't know what he would do if a swan came out of the end of her wand. Laugh, cry, collapse…

He jerked his wand toward the kitchen. "Get it. Show me."

With one last look at him, Lily went into the kitchen and was back in a flash, wand held loosely in her hand.

"I won't hurt you.' She said.

'It's a little late for that.' He muttered.

Lily raised her wand and saw him flinch. She didn't know if he was going to stun her the moment she opened her moth, of if he was going to actually let her show him her Patronus. Remus's reflexes were very good, and he could have her down on the ground unconscious before she could even get out the first syllable of her spell. But, then again, she'd been watching him curse people for years, and knew when he was going to cast.

"_Expect Patronum_."

Remus was sure the air had been sucked out of him as the Swan erupted out of her wand. It illuminated her face with a silvery glow, but expression didn't betray anything. She wasn't looking at her swan, only at him to see his reaction.

The Swan was extinguished as quickly as it had appeared, and the only sound was the light clunk of wood as Remus's wand fell to the floor. Neither of them moved. Lily wanted to go to him, hug him, or reassure him, or just shake him and make sure he was alright, but was unsure if that would help or just make matters worse.

He didn't seem to be breathing. He was just standing there, his eyes shining and the muscles in his jaw sticking out like walnuts. He looked as if he were about to pass out. He had paled almost alarmingly.

Finally, after a long moment of staring, Remus opened his mouth and after a few attempts to speak, whispered…

"Lily?"

Lily smiled. "That's what it says on my birth certificate."

Remus let out a laugh and fisted his hair in his hands. He looked as if he'd just spent the last ten years of his life in a mental institution. He stumbled toward her, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish on drugs in an attempt to say anything, but nothing would come out.

"Why, Remus, I don't think I've ever seen you without something to say!' laughed Lily, holding her hands out for him to take.

Forgetting about her hands, he seized her by the upper arms and held on to her as if afraid she was going to run off. "Lily? It's really you?"

"It's really me."

He smiled, his momentary hysteria fading away to be replaced by his usual calm. He hesitantly reached out to touch her face, and when his fingertips brushed against her cheek, he flinched as if surprised to feel her, even though he'd already grabbed her.

"Lily.' He muttered, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Lily giggled. "I think we've established that I'm Lily, yes."

He laughed, slipped his arms around her and drew her into a hug, lifting her off her feet. Lily laughed and hugged him back as he spun around with her, her feet flying out. After a few moments of manic laughter and hugging, he set her down on her feet and stepped back to take a good look at her, still holding her hands.

"You're looking remarkably well. You know…for a dead woman."

Lily snorted and rolled her eyes. "Way to flatter a girl, Remus."

Remus smiled and gave her hands a squeeze…and then looked around the room.

Lily's smile faded as she realized what he was doing. He was looking around expectantly, his eyes bright with the possibilities. She felt her heart break at that look. She put her hand on his cheek and turned his face back to her.

"I'm sorry Remus,' she whispered, 'but it's just me."

Although he tried, he couldn't hide his disappointment. He blinked several times, as if trying to will away his tears, before smiling and shaking her hands. "That's alright. In fact, that's more than alright."

"I know you wanted him back. So do I.' she said softly. 'But…it's just me. I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not disappointed."

"Yes you are.' She said, nodding with a sad smile. 'And that's alright. Because I know exactly how you feel. In fact, I'd find myself concerned if you weren't.'

Remus felt an enormous weight of guilt suddenly slide off his shoulders. It helped that she understood such a complicated emotion. It helped that she didn't hate him or despised him for wanting James back with her as well.

"How is any of this happening?' he asked. 'You, being here…it's just…'

"A trip?"

"Understatement.' He chuckled. 'So, wait…Harry _knew_ about this? All along? How long have you been here?"

"About a fortnight."

"A _fortnight_?'

Lily laughed and took his face in his hands. "Remus, it's alright. Remember to breathe."

Taking deep breaths, Remus felt his heartrate slow from its excited mantra. He wrapped his long fingers around her tiny wrists, but didn't pull her hands away from his face – he just looked at her.

He gave her a small smile, feeling like he was caught up in a glorious dream from which he never wanted to wake up. "Lily."

She grinned, brought him closer and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Why don't you get us some drinks, and then we can sit down instead of continuing to play some sort of musical chairs merry-go-round, and I can explain all this to you."

"Right. Drinks. You want some whiskey in your Orange juice?"

"I think we may need some, yes."

--------------

The kitchen rang with laughter like the tolling of a bell as two old friends reconnected they bond after sixteen years apart. Time had lost all meaning in those four walls. They had been talking for hours, and there seemed to be no stopping them yet. Happiness and completion seemed to seep from the walls, drowning the two occupants in it.

They had not only gotten themselves drinks, but raided the cupboard as well, spreading out chocolate chip cookies, Bertie Botts Beans, Licorice wands and other candy's that were considered immature around them. Lily was sitting up on top of the table, leaning back on her hands with her legs crossed, while Remus sat on the chair nearest her, his feet up on the table while cradling a bottle of Butterbeer in his lap.

"So, what's been the biggest shock for you since you came back?' asked Remus, taking a sip of his drink.

Lily pursed her lips and thought for a moment, before smiling down at him. "Oh, the final installment of Star Wars! I mean, come on…Leia was Luke's _twin sister_? Holy crap, I didn't see _that_ one coming!"

Remus gave her a look.

"Oh, alright, biggest shock…' she trailed off, taking another moment to think. She smiled and grabbed a few chocolate frogs. 'Seeing Harry. He was definitely the biggest shock."

"And seeing how much he looks like Prongs?"

"Not just that, although that did surprise me.' she said. 'Just seeing him so grown up. Seeing him as this adult, with friends and a life and stubble on his chin and broad shoulders…"

Remus smiled and nodded. "I know exactly how you feel. When I first spotted him on the Hogwarts Express…I thought I'd slipped into some sort of alternate reality. It was like twelve years hadn't passed, and that I'd known him my entire life instead of being cut off from him. It seemed like only the other day that I had been babysitting him, playing with him in his room, taking him for walks down to the shop with James…it was kind of like seeing my own son after a decade apart. I can only imagine how mind-blowing it could have been for you."

Lily hummed in response. "Seems only yesterday we were at the hospital, doting over him in the maternity ward, doesn't it? Time flies so fast…when you're dead."

"Time wouldn't have made much difference to you,' he laughed, 'being the fact that you were dead and all."

"No, it probably didn't then. But it does now.' She said. 'You know sometimes when he was a baby, I'd rock him to sleep in my lap. See, I'd lay him like this, right here, right in the dip where my legs joined, on his back, facing me. He used to love it. I'd take his little hand and sing to him and stroke that little tuft of hair, and he'd be out like a light in just a few minutes. I don't know, I think he felt safe in a position where he could see me. I could sit there for hours, just looking at him, marveling at how beautiful he was. How innocent and special he was. And I'd used to try and imagine what he'd be like when he got to be older. Would he look like me? Would he have James' nature? Would he be good at Charms, or Potions, or Herbology? Millions of little details that I'd try to predict."

"And how does the real thing compare?' asked Remus.

Lily smiled. "He's more magnificent that I could have ever hoped for, Remus. He's motivated, and loyal, and has outstanding values…"

She trailed off, thankful that she finally had someone she could share all this with. Remus was one of the only people left who really knew the intimate details of how the Potter Family had been run all those years ago, and therefore didn't need any history lessons, or moments to fill in the blanks. When she described something, he knew immediately what she was referring to, and it was like she could reconnect with a life she thought she had lost.

"All that he's been through…its more than any one person should have to go through, let alone a teenager. Let alone _my son_. He doesn't complain, he doesn't get mad…'

Remus snorted.

Lily blinked. "What was that for?"

"Doesn't get mad?' he chuckled, raising his eyebrows. 'Oh boy, Lily, you should have been here two years ago. Then you'd be signing a different tune about his supposed lack of teenage angst."

"A bit moody, was he?"

"Oh yeah, only a little."

Lily laughed. "I'm glad you could have been there to see it all. I'm glad he could know you."

Remus smiled, took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Well, now he can know you too."

"Its sounds so bizarre, you know, the whole concept of him now having the opportunity to know me. Children shouldn't need to find 'opportunity's' to know they're own parents.' She muttered irritably.

Remus didn't comment. He agreed with her. It wasn't fair at all that Harry had to resort of snatching up snippets of his parents lives over the past. He should have been able to owl home and ask them, or ask them at dinner, or talk to them while they sat in the living room.

Lily shook herself and smiled down at him. "Well, enough about that. I want to hear about your life and its direction, Mr. Moony."

"Well, it's stuck on route 46 at the moment. Damn roundabouts.'

"Yep, those sneaky roundabout bastards will do it every time.' She giggled. 'No, seriously! You must have done _something_ with your miserable existence during my sabbatical."

"Of course I did. I didn't sit at home like some sort of bum.' He scoffed mockingly. 'What do you want to know?"

"Oh, I don't know. Anything!' she said happily. She ate another chocolate frog and smirked slyly down at him. 'Tell me more about this girl you're seeing."

Remus flushed. "Who said I was seeing anyone?"

"Harry did."

Lily laughed silently to herself as Remus muttered something that sounded like 'Hosey nittle sport."

"You don't have to be embarrassed in front of me, Remus; we have the same monthly moody dates. We're practically sisters."

"Somehow, that doesn't really reassure me."

"So, what's her name?' asked Lily, ignoring him.

"Harry didn't tell you?"

"Harry didn't tell me anything other than you had someone."

Remus adverted his eyes so he wouldn't have to look into her twinkling ones and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. It had always been a bit strange to discuss personal things with anyone, especially Lily. But she never seemed to mind his bashfulness, only tried to push it aside.

He sighed. "Her name is Nymphadora Tonks."

"Nymphadora?' said Lily, looking appalled. 'Did her parents hate her or something?"

"This is why she only liked to be called 'Tonks'. Although I can get away with 'Dora' most of the time.' He smiled.

Lily smirked. "I bet you can. Where did you meet her?"

"Well, actually…she's a member of the Order.' He said. 'She's also an Auror, so having her on the team helps a lot."

"I don't remember her."

"No, you probably wouldn't. She wasn't part of the Order until a few years ago."

"She an Auror for our Ministry?"

"Yes, and a very good one at that. She works pretty closely with Mad-eye.'

Lily shivered. "Good lord, the poor girl."

Remus laughed, feeling his heart warm at the imagine of Tonks that flashed through his mind. "She seems to like it. At least she hasn't complained to me about it yet."

"Nymphadora Tonks…' thought Lily out loud. 'I don't remember that name. And I'm sure _anyone _would remember that name given the chance. Did she go to Hogwarts?"

"Of course she went to Hogwarts."

Lily frowned. "Then why don't I remember her?"

"Lily, you didn't know every student that went to Hogwarts."

"Well, I was Head Girl and a Prefect…I knew quite a few people."

Remus sighed, feeling himself burn up again. "Well, er…you wouldn't have known her."

"Why in heaven's name not? What house was she in?"

"Gryffindor."

"I knew everyone in Gryffindor!"

"Well, you wouldn't have known her, because she wasn't at Hogwarts when we were!' cried Remus, feeling his embarrassment reach a new plateau.

Lily frowned. "She wasn't?"

"No, she wasn't.' he sighed, rubbing his eyes. 'She didn't start Hogwarts until only a year or so after Harry was born. She's…well, she's only twenty five."

Remus was so red Lily was afraid he was about to burst into flame. She didn't want to tease him this time, because he looked almost ashamed of himself, as if dating a woman over ten years his junior was going to earn him a lifetime sentence in Azkaban.

She smiled, sat up and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Does she make you happy?"

He looked up at her hesitantly, and after a moment nodded. "Yes, she does."

"Well, then, dash what anyone else thinks about you and your age difference. You're into her, she's obviously into you – bugger the opinions of others.' She grinned.

Remus smiled. That would have been exactly what James would have said.

"Does it matter that her mother is Sirius's cousin?" asked Remus.

Lily's eyes narrowed. "Which one?"

"Andromeda."

"Oh, well no! Of course it doesn't!' she laughed. 'Sirius would probably belt the snot out of you for going anywhere near her, but then he'd probably get over it and slap you on the back for it. Sirius would have loved to make you family…not that you already weren't."

Remus laughed. "He'd have to get through Dora before he could pummel me. She's a firecracker."

Lily smiled down at him. "Does she know about…you know…"

"My furry little problem?"

"Yeah, that."

"Yes, she knows. Just like the rest of the world."

"What does that mean?"

Remus smiled sadly and took another swig of his Butterbeer. "Let's just say someone let slip the nature of my condition at a rather public gathering."

Lily frowned. "Did you get ostracized for it?"

"Not really. I had to quit my job after it though."

"That hardly seems fair. It's not like you hurt anybody. Harry said you take some potion that helps you keep safe."

Remus waved a hand dismissively. "Its all water under the bridge now."

"It's an injustice.' She argued softly. 'You shouldn't have to put up with this prejudice bollocks anymore. You're only a Werewolf a few times out of the year, not every hour of every day."

"Lily, really, it's alright.' He smiled.

Lily looked at him doubtfully, but let the subject drop.

"Truth be told, I'd much rather focus on you being here rather than my monthly issues."

"What do you mean?"

Remus rubbed his eyes with his hand and put his legs down off the table. "I don't know. Just something about you being here…the timing…its bugging me. Why now, of all times? Why would they wait so long to send you back? Why didn't they send you right back straight away? And who are 'They'?"

"You're asking far too many questions.' She groaned. 'I feel like I'm back in NEWT's again."

"I can't believe you're not curious about any of this!"

"I _am_ curious, Remus! I've been wondering all this ever since I came back!' she said defensively. 'I keep asking questions that have no sodding answer! Why did I come back? Why me and not James? Why now? How? And why has the world become this alternate reality in which nothing makes any sense? Why Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards in the world is dead, and why Sirius, one of the greatest _friends_ in the world, is dead. It just… Remus, what's the matter?"

Remus' expression had gone blank in that expression that Lily recognized from their study sessions as the 'I'm getting hit by The Epiphany Bat' look.

"Lily…I just thought of something."

"I figured."

"What do you remember from when you first came back? What's the first thing you can recall?"

Lily squinted in thought. "I woke up in the middle of the street. That's all, really."

"And then you were taken to that Rehabilitation centre, yes?"

"Yes."

"This may seem like a very bizarre question, but can you remember what date it was when this all happened?"

Lily frowned at him. "Uhm…the twenty first of June, 1995. It was a late Friday night, I think. Maybe even early Saturday morning. Remus, what is it? My god, you look like you're about to be sick!"

Remus thumped his bottle down on the table and got to his feet, running his hands through his hair. "This cant be a coincidence. It just _can't_ be."

"What can't be coincidence?' asked Lily, leaping up off the table and crossing over to him to put a halt to his pacing. 'Remus, what's going on?"

"Friday the twenty first…Lily, that's the date we went to the Department of Mysteries.' Said Remus, looking at her with wide eyes. 'That's the date Sirius fell through the veil. The date he died."

Lily's eyes narrowed and her mouth fell open. "Are you saying that Sirius dying has something to do with me being alive? Remus, how is that even possible?"

"I don't know! But it's an awfully big coincidence, don't you think? The day he dies is the day you come back to life?"

Remus stroked his chin and looked off into space, his mind going into overdrive.

"What was that veil thing anyway?' she asked.

"None of us know.' Muttered Remus, rubbing his jaw. 'We don't know scarcely anything about what goes on down there. Harry said to me once that he heard voices through that veil, as if there were people just on the other side.' He looked at Lily. 'Do you remember anything from that time between when you were murdered and the day you woke up in London?"

Lily hugged herself as though she were cold. "Not consciously. But, now that you mention it, I did used to have these strange dreams for the first few months. It was like, I was floating, and I couldn't really _see_ anything more than feel things. Good feelings, like warmth, and that feeling you get when you're standing next to someone. I remember flashes of colour, and I think there were a few words spoken…but that's all, I'm sorry."

"No, that's alright.' He said. He grabbed her hand and began leading her toward the door.

"Wait, where are we going?"

"To talk to Harry. Come on."

-------------

It was late afternoon, and Ron could see the orange sky illuminated by the setting sun whenever he looked out of the window. His concentration was waning from the books laid out on the table in front of him to other, more beautiful things.

That's when he looked back at the girl across from him.

He knew that whenever anyone would ask him 'What reminds you of Hermione?', he would automatically think of her as he saw her now – with her nose stuck in a book. They were sitting on either side of her desk, and she was hunched over a particularly large volume, her elbows resting on the table and her bushy hair curtained around her face, as if to veil out any possible distractions. He constantly admired her stamina when it came to research. It seemed she could go on for hours, taking in every scrap of information and actually retaining it.

Ron smiled, shook his head and went back to his book.

The branches of the tree outside Hermione's bedroom window scratched against the glass pane, making her look up. She'd been almost freakishly alert lately, ready incase there was an ambush at any moment, and any sudden sounds always made her sit up and pay attention. Looking over her shoulder to make sure it really was just the tree; she tucked her hair behind her ear and turned back around.

And found herself looking straight at Ron.

He had his head bowed as he read his book, chewing on the end of a Sugar quill as his eyes scanned the yellowed page in front of him. His index finger on his right hand was playing with the upper corner of the page, flicking it and stroking it as if it were some sort of toy. His fingernails were bitten right down, just the way he liked them, and his red fringe was falling in his bright blue eyes, making him flick it away with a jerk of his head every few moments.

She had asked him over to her house earlier that day, and he'd stayed for lunch and afternoon tea. And when she had suggested they go up to her room to study, she had been surprised when her parents had not discouraged the action. They obviously trusted her to have a boy up in her room with the door open, which was something at least. And it was, after all, only Ron.

She smiled at the top of his head, and then went back to her book.

Ron scratched his forearm, flexed his hand and looked up at her again. She'd tucked her hair behind her ear, and he couldn't help but smile. He had never been able to decide whether he preferred her hair up or down.

Shaking himself, he went back to his book, forcing himself to concentrate.

Hermione rubbed her nose and peered up from her book to look over at Ron. He was mouthing the words as he read them, his brow knitted in forced concentration. His attention span, it seemed, was nearing breaking point, and she found it rather amusing.

Wiping the grin off her face, she shook herself and looked back at her book.

Ron lifted his gaze away from the book and looked at Hermione again. Her lips were pursed, indicating she must have hit a rather interesting part in the book.

Hermione rubbed her eyes and looked up at Ron…and blushed when she discovered that he was looking right back.

The two of them smiled bashfully and looked away very quickly.

Ron ruffled his hair awkwardly, hoping she couldn't feel the heat radiating from his face and ears. He knew there was no way he was going to be able to concentrate on this book now – he was far too flustered and embarrassed.

Hermione shook her head, silently reprimanding herself for getting distracted…not to mention for getting busted.

A rather long, awkward silence then followed, hanging over the two of them like one of Professor Trelawney's exceptionally large cheap shawls. Both of them wanted to look up, but neither of them wanted to deal with the embarrassment of being caught peeking again.

Hoping to break the silence, Ron cleared his throat and looked over at her. "What does this word mean?"

Hermione looked up. "What word?"

"This one…right here…' he twisted the book toward her, pointing to the word that he, truthfully, didn't know the meaning of.

"Ostentatious?"

"Yeah, that."

Hermione smiled. "Means that you like to get attention."

Ron smirked, nodded and pulled the book back to him. "Okay, good. Thank you."

"What are you reading anyway?' she laughed.

"It's a book on Jinxes.' He said, slouching into his seat again. 'Thought it may be useful to learn some incase we're ever ambushed."

"But we know heaps of jinxes already."

"It doesn't hurt to know a few more.' He said, quirking an eyebrow. 'Isn't that right?"

Hermione glared mockingly at his teasing expression. "Don't make me regret asking you over here today. I won't have you mocking me in my own home, thank you very much."

Ron snorted. "You, like everyone else, know the risks in inviting me over. You do so at your own risk."

"Oh please, don't be so full of yourself. You're a boy, not an atomic weapon."

"I find myself wounded by your harsh words, Hermione."

"You'll find yourself wounded by something else if you don't stop grinning at me like that.' She smirked.

Ron stretched his legs out underneath her desk and sighed, taking a moment to look around her room. "Are you sure your parents don't mind us being up here?"

"Why would they?"

"Oh, I don't know.' He muttered, suddenly wishing he hadn't brought this up. 'I just thought…maybe they'd be a bit uneasy about you having a guy up in your room and…well, er…'

Hermione looked up from her book again to see him blumber over his words, his ears suddenly more red than ruby's. She raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to speak, when the sound of fast approaching footsteps caught her attention.

Ron whirled around too, and both teenagers were on their feet in a flash, wands raised. They waited, exchanging a quick glance…and then Harry burst into the room.

But neither of them relaxed.

"Oh, hey, you're both here. Excellent. Smashing.' Breathed Harry, panting from his jog up the stairs.

"Why was I turned into a cat in second year?' said Hermione, her wand pointed and ready.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "Because you were silly enough to pluck hair off someone's robes rather than yank it out of their heads like you constantly lectured and reminded Ron and I to do."

Hermione glared at him and lowered her wand. "I should jinx you just for calling me silly."

"Ah, get off it woman.' Laughed Ron, shaking Harry's hand. 'Glad you're here actually. You can take a book and start reading. Sidekicks can only research so much, you know."

"Thanks for the generous offer, but I actually came here to ask Hermione something.' Said Harry, looking at Hermione as Ron sat back down.

"So, what is it? Everything alright?" asked Hermione, putting her hands on her hips.

Harry nodded. "Oh yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to ask you a favour."

"Anything. Shoot."

Harry rubbed his hands together and gave Ron a glance, before looking at an expectant Hermione. "I want you to do some research for me."

Hermione blinked. "Harry, look at my desk. Look at all these books! What do you think I've been doing this past week and a half? Getting my hair done?"

"If you have been, I'd be suing, because it doesn't look any different."

"Shut up, Ron!' she snapped over her shoulder.

"No, it's not about Voldemort or Horcruxes or anything like that.' Said Harry, holding up his hands to stop her rant before she got on a roll. 'I want you to research the Veil in the Department of Mysteries."

Hermione straightened up, suddenly looking very alert. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry sighed. "Look, I know it's a lot to ask of you, considering how much research you're doing already, but I just…"

"No, Harry, I don't mind.' She said with a reassuring grin. 'Its just…why on earth do you want me to research that? Now of all times?"

"Isn't it obvious?' said Ron. 'It's about Sirius. Isn't it?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, kind of."

Ron and Hermione looked at him blankly.

Harry sighed. "Okay, sit down. I'll explain it all to you."

* * *

A/N – a bizarre place to end? Maybe, but I felt it was long enough there. I didn't want to bore you with information that you'll be getting later on anyway. So, good? Bad? Let me know!

Please review!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14!

* * *

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and ran his hands through his hair, trying desperately to ignore the slow, droning sound of Toni Braxton blasting from the radio behind him.

What kind of work environment was this anyway? How could one be expected to plot the innumerable ways to save the world from tyranny and impending doom when all they could hear was how some woman wanted a man to come back and un-break her heart? Heartfelt ballads and instrumentals were not suitable music to get one's mind into gear for organizing schemes for victory.

He ruffled the back of his hair and looked down at the notes laid out on the table before him, hoping the black words would barge their way past the lyrics of the song and soak into his brain to be analyzed. But, no matter how much he read, all his mind could decipher was a rather ineligible blend of the two.

_Plans to destroy Death Eaters: Out number, say you love me again, undo this hurt you cause when you walk out the door._

Harry sighed, shook his head and gave reading once last shot, before throwing his quill down, whirling around in his chair and looking at the woman prancing around the room.

"Mum!"

Lily, who had been dancing around like a ballerina while reading over a book, looked up in surprise, ceasing her attempts to sing along with the music. "Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm reading."

"Do you have to sing?"

Lily smiled and shut her small book 'Potions; A Guide' around her finger to mark her page. "Sorry, honey. Am I distracting you?"

"No, the music is!' he said, glaring at the radio on the other side of the room. 'Cant you perform somewhere else?"

"Well, pardon me for trying to help you out.' She huffed, waving her wand at the radio to shut it off.

Harry sighed in relief and turned back to his desk. 'I highly doubt any sort of potion is going to help me."

"Oh, now, do be so cynical. Just because a dung beetle has better brewing methods than you do, doesn't mean you can get stropy and judgmental.' She teased, playfully kicking his seat as she continued to dance around on tiptoes. She opened her book back up to the page and continued scanning it. 'You never know what may be useful. If you're going into a war, you need to go in protected."

"Then maybe we should wear bulletproof vests instead.' He muttered.

"Maybe we should. But only after I've dipped them into another of my superb potions to add to their protection."

Harry blinked and looked up at her, mildly surprised. "You can do that?"

"Well, I could, if you would shut your yap and let me read. Honestly, Harry, you're so distracting.' Said Lily, hiding her grin behind her book.

Feeling annoyed again, Harry let out a haughty huff and went back to his notes. But, as he quickly discovered, even with the blessed relief of loud music he still could not focus. His mind was anywhere but on the task at hand, and the more he tried to concentrate, the difficult it seemed to get. He looked at the back of his fingernails seeing their slightly dirty cuticles, and listened to the patter of his mother's bare feet against the floorboards as she continued to dance around like a tan year old girl dressed as a fairy. There were clouds rolling across the sky through the window, and it looked as if it could rain…

Harry let out a cry of annoyance and slammed his fist down on the desk, causing his glass of water to wobble.

Lily jumped and looked at him in slight alarm, letting her book drop onto the sofa behind her. "Harry? Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not sodding alright."

Sensing her moment, Lily crossed over to him and ran her hands through his messy mop of thick midnight locks. He seemed to relax a little.

"You're being very hard on yourself.' She said softly. 'Take a break, will you? Or at least find something different to read. Studying all this information Dumbledore gave you can't be very interesting to stare at hours on end."

Harry sighed and leant back in his seat. "It's not just this stuff,' He said, shoving the papers away. 'Its other stuff that's going on."

"Oh yes? Like what?"

"Like…Bill's wedding." He muttered bashfully.

Lily looked at him, trying desperately not to call him on the rosy tinge to his cheeks. "What does Bill's wedding have to do with you? Unless you're organizing the music for the night or something like that."

"No, it's not that."

"Well, what is it then?'

Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek as he looked up at her, wishing he'd never broached the subject in the first place. He knew well enough by now that she would not let a subject drop easily, especially when she knew it troubled him.

"You'll think it's silly.' He muttered.

Lily smiled. 'Harry you're a teenager. I think _everything_ that bothers you is silly."

Harry smiled, unable to help himself.

"Come on,' she urged, sitting down on the desk. 'What's the problem?"

He folded his arms over his chest, making him look like a pouting seven year old that had just been grounded. The gesture made Lily smile; sometimes it was hard to remember he really was just a normal teenager.

"There's going to be music there.' He said.

"And, what, you don't like music?"

"No, music means there will be people dancing."

"And you don't like people dancing?"

"Try to stick with me here, woman.' Said Harry, his eyes narrowed.

Lily took a moment, before her eyes widened and she understood. "You can't dance.' She said, nodding.

Harry pursed his lips. "I can…compared to Ron. But that's not really saying much. No doubt Ron's learnt for the wedding, and…'

'You don't want to show up and make a dill of yourself.' She finished for him. 'Yes, I understand. Have you danced at all in your life?"

"Not since the Yule Ball."

"Oh dear.' She said, leaning her elbows on her knees. 'You're in a right pickle then, aren't you? How are you going to get Ginny to dance with you?"

Harry's head snapped up. "That was _not_ the intention."

"Oh, of course it was. You don't have to try and lie to me.' she said happily, waving a hand dismissively at him.

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to spit out an argument while blushing furiously.

Lily smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Would you like me to teach you to dance, Harry?"

Harry didn't even get to think of a protest before she leapt up and pulled him up out of his seat to his feet. She rushed over to the radio and began searching the stations, her ear bent down close to the speaker and a look of concentration on her face.

"Er, you can dance, right?" he asked, swinging his arms nervously at his side.

Lily smiled, her eyes stuck on a point at the other side of the room. "Yeah, a little. I couldn't very well dance at my wedding if I didn't know how, could I?"

Harry smiled. "No, I suppose not."

A feeling of dread started to work its way up his body, starting at his toes as Lily found a song she found to be satisfactory and made her way over to him. Instantly, Harry felt as though his feet were made of lead and his arms were limp like hot spaghetti.

"Now, normally the man takes the lead, but I think I'll lead just until you get going.' Said Lily, taking his hands. 'Now, you stand like this…yes, that's right. Put your hand here…and your other in mine, like this…good! See, not too scary."

"The hand positions aren't the problem. Wait, that came out wrong…"

"You need to relax, Harry. We're not dancing The Robot here. Now, _breathe_. Count with me. 1,2,3,4…1,2,3,4…"

Slowly, she managed to pull the suction cups from the soles of his feet and get him moving. He felt rather stupid, being led around by a woman who had to stand on tiptoes to look level into his eyes, let alone his mother. He felt as though his feet were ten sizes to big, but somehow he managed. He jerked around, slowly relaxing and listening to the music, trying to get in time with the slow beat.

She smiled up at him warmly. "Isn't this nice? Us, dancing together?"

Harry made a sort of movement that looked like an involuntary spasm and let the tip of his tongue stick pensively out of the corner of his mouth.

Lily giggled at the look of concentration on his face. "You look puzzled."

"I _am_ puzzled.' He laughed, looking down at his feet. He didn't want to tread on her bare feet with his sneakers. 'How do you know which way to turn? And how do you know which way _I'm_ going to turn? What if I turn one way, and you go to turn the other way, and we end up in this half-turn, half road collision type dance move?"

"You think far too much.' She said, giving his hand a squeeze. 'Big, fancy dances like waltz and other such ballroom routines need practice. But we're not entering you into a dance contest…all you need to do is find your feet. Or not trod on Ginny's. Either way."

"I'm not doing this for Ginny!" he huffed defensively.

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Then why do you want to know how to dance if you're not planning on dancing with anyone?"

"I didn't say I wasn't going to dance with anyone."

"So, you _are _going to dance with Ginny then."

Harry faltered. "Well, no…maybe…I don't know!"

"If you're not going to dance with Ginny, who are you going to dance with?"

"Well, I hadn't really thought about it."

"Hermione?"

Harry grinned at that, turning with Lily a little. 'I guess, considering Ron probably won't have the stones to ask her to, and I'd hate to see another dramatic overload like the Yule Ball."

"Molly?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Fleur?"

"Ha! Not likely."

Lily paused, tightening her grip on his hand. "Me?"

Harry looked down at her, surprised at her sudden placidness. "Of course I would – you're my date. You know, in a very non Jerry Springer type way."

She smiled, but Harry could see the sadness in such a beautiful expression.

"You alright? I didn't step on your foot, did I?"

"No, it's not that.' She laughed.

"What is it then?"

She bit her lip and looked up at him, clearly hesitant, but sighed in resignation. Girls were always less reluctant to share what was troubling them than boys were – something Harry had learnt over his seven years of having Hermione as a best friend.

"It's just that this will be my first real social function since I came 'out', and…I wont be able to able to walk in with my husband.' She said softly.

Harry felt his stomach clench, again wishing he would listen to his instincts when they screamed at him 'Wrong way, go back' when it came to pressing for information. One day, he knew he'd learn to listen to that sign's advice.

"Well, you can still walk in with me.' he grinned, hoping to lighten the mood. 'And hopefully I'll be able to tame my hair for the day."

Lily laughed and smacked him playfully on the arm. "Well, stranger things have happened I suppose."

They continued to dance in silence for a little longer, Harry finally getting over the feeling of being an ogre dancing with a gnome and began to find his feet. It really wasn't as bad as he had feared. As long as the pace was slow and the movement was kept at a minimum, he was sure he wasn't going to break any of Ginny's toes.

_Ginny_.

Harry blushed and looked away as he suddenly remembered what it was he had been planning to do that afternoon. But now, after taking the time to really mull over it, it didn't seem like such a good idea after all. Even though he knew that if he didn't do it he would be perceived as an insensitive prat, get lectured by Hermione and be belted around the ears by Ron…

"Ow! Harry!"

"Oh, sorry, Mum!'

Lily groaned, pulled away from him and smiled weakly as she rubbed her trodden on toe with the ball of her other heel. "If you wanted to stop, all you had to do was say so."

"Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.' Said Harry, taking a step away before he could cause her any more bodily harm.

"Evidently.' She laughed, walking it off.

"Maybe we should stop. I don't want to render you an invalid."

"Yes, alright. I think you've got the swing of it anyway…pardon the pun.' She said, turning the radio down.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and looked down at his notes once more, feeling that urge of reluctance to go back to them. Now he was on his 'Ginny' train of thought, there would be nothing productive wrung of them today. He looked at his mother as she picked her book up again and began reading, wondering if he could get out of the house without invoking too many questions.

"Er…Mum?"

"Present."

"Would you mind if I went out for a bit?'

Lily looked up at him over the top of her book, and the twinkle in her eye was not lost to him. "Where are you off to?"

Harry shuffled his feet, hoping he wasn't blushing. "Just…out. Is that alright? I'll be right back, you know, after I've done…done this. And I know I should be sitting here, doing this research, but…'

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Get out."

Harry grinned, nodded and stuck his thumbs up at his mother. "Smashing. See you later."

Lily watched him disapparate with a CRACK, giggled and went back to her book.

------------

Harry knew he would be safe apparating into the kitchen of the Burrow. For one, it was well after lunch, and everyone would either be outside enjoying the sunshine, or passed out in various forms of armchairs with their belts undone from another satisfying meal prepared by the matriarch of the Weasley family. He'd been expecting there to be little, if not no traffic within the confines of the kitchen, and he was right. Mrs. Weasley wasn't bustling around doing dishes, or cleaning up in some way. In fact, she wasn't anywhere to be seen.

But, what he hadn't been expecting upon arrival was the mixed sound of music and laughter.

Girly laughter.

Curiosity peaked, Harry silently made his way around to the doorway and stuck his head around to peer into the living room. Sitting on the floor in an angled circle were Ginny, Hermione, Luna and three other girls from Ginny's year Harry only knew by face…all of them chatting, laughing, eating and dressed very nicely. Harry felt his stomach drop.

Ginny's birthday party.

He'd completely forgotten she was having her gaggle of girls over, and had also forgotten that Hermione actually came under that category. No wonder there wasn't anyone about. They'd all left to let Ginny have the house to herself.

There six of them were talking loudly over the music, stuffing their faces with Chocolate Frogs and Butterbeer so much it astounded Harry that they still looked as good as they did. Where did it all go anyway?

Ginny looked so happy surrounded by friends, and the social popularity seemed to suit her. She was loud, into everything, and very sociable, never turning down a conversation or cutting it off head on. She laughed without inhibition, like how one laughed when they forgot how they looked when they were laughing, her head thrown back and her stomach shaking. All girls looked remarkably dolled up, yet strangely at ease at the same time, as if they were all sitting around in their pajamas. Hermione was in front of her, sitting on the floor with her, leaning her back up against Ginny's knees as Ginny drew meaningless circles on the base of her neck as they talked. Both looked very calm and relaxed, and Harry was pleased to see Hermione taking some down time. He knew how obsessive and mental she could get about her research.

Harry smiled, relieved to see a little normalcy still going on in a world of chaos. Relived that Ginny could still take time out to throw herself a birthday party, and have friends over, and get drunk if she wanted, or eat until she threw up if she wanted.

Harry fingered the present in his left hand, feeling a change of mind going on. He didn't want to intrude on something that was clearly not for boys or anyone else who wasn't one of the girls in there right now. He should leave…he could give her the gift another time…when she wasn't with so many girls…

THUMP.

"Ah, _SHITE_!"

As Harry had tried to turn and leave, his foot had caught on the bottom of his jeans and he hadn't fallen backward hard on his backside. His cry of pain mixed with the thump of his landing caused all the girls to whirl around in surprise.

Whirl around and look right at him.

The music dimmed to nothing, and Harry looked up to see Ginny on her feet, looking down at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement. Hermione was on the floor, peering around the edge of the sofa on her hands and knees, while Luna and the other girls were arching their necks to try and see what had caused the commotion.

Harry grinned up at Ginny bashfully. "Uh…hello."

Ginny just smiled down at him, eyebrows raised, ignoring the flurry of giggles behind her.

"You going to help me up, or are you just going to stand there and bask in my stupidity?" he asked.

"I'm just going to bask in your stupidity.' She said.

"Gee, you're real nice.' He grumbled, pulling himself to his feet.

Harry righted himself, discreetly giving his left buttock a soothing rub and smiled at Ginny. "Sorry, I er…forgot you were having your party."

Ginny folded her arms over her chest. "Honestly, Harry, it's alright. Even when you include your very subtle intrusion. I have to say, I never really took you for the party-crashing type."

"You'd be surprised. Hey, Hermione."

Hermione got up and just gave him a typical, Hermione, 'I-can't-believe-this-doofus-is-my-best-friend' smile.

"Are you staying, Harry?' asked Luna, her eyes wide with delight.

"Er, no, I won't stay long."

"Are you sure?' asked Ginny. 'We can give you a pedicure, or do your nails…'

"No thanks,' he smirked, 'I just had my fortnightly facial this morning. All nice and exfoliated now – but thanks for the offer."

The girls laughed, but Ginny just smirked up at him.

Harry extinguished his own. "Can I talk to you for a minute? I'll be real quick."

Ginny nodded. "Sure, down here…'

Wishing that girlish giggles had an on/off button, Harry gave Hermione one final wave before following Ginny through the living room to the hallway, out of sight. There was less light in the hallway, and Harry had to squint to adjust to the dimness. The music started back up as well as the chatter, and Harry was relieved to know that they weren't going to try and eavesdrop.

"I'd take you upstairs, but I don't really trust Luna around my dad's collection of remote controls.'

'No, that's all-…'

Harry stopped as he looked down at her and realized just how closely they were standing together. It was cramped in the hallway, and her face was just inches from his. He could smell her perfume, something new, and didn't know if he should move or stay.

'…right.' He finished lamely.

Ginny smiled and swallowed.

There was another of those uneasy pauses that felt like that bizarre rubbing resistance when one tried to push two magnets together. One would try to push forward, while the other would try to push away. And it probably could have gone on forever, stubborn as they both were, when Harry finally cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"So…where is everyone?"

"Mum and Dad went out for the afternoon. They wanted me to have the house to myself.' Said Ginny, smiling. 'Bill and Fleur are out doing 'soon-to-be-married-people' things, and Ron flooed over to Romania this morning to see Charlie."

"Charlie? Really?"

"Yeah, Charlie invited him over for a little 'brother bonding' time.' She giggled. 'I'm surprised he didn't ask you to go with him actually."

Harry shrugged. "Ah, well…it's a brother thing probably."

Ginny smiled politely and rubbed her arms as if she were cold. "So, er…not to sound rude, but exactly why _are_ you crashing my sweet sixteenth?"

Harry shivered. "Oh, er…I wanted to give you something."

"And what was that? A long, awkward pause?"

Not taking the bait, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the little parcel he had rather sloppily wrapped himself. He turned it over a few times, before pursing his lips and thrusting it forward for her to take.

"Here.' He muttered.

Ginny's eyebrows rose in surprise as she gingerly took the gift, fingering the bow in slight surprise.

"It's a birthday present.' Said Harry.

"Yes, I figured.' She giggled.

Harry watched on with anticipation as Ginny flicked a fingernail under the edge of the paper and, very daintily, unwrapped her gift. The paper fell away to reveal a navy blue box. Ginny looked up at him curiously, before lifting the lid away and let out an almost inaudible sigh of surprise.

"Oh, Harry."

Inside was a necklace. The thin chain was gold, as was the diamond shaped pendant hanging on the end with little oval shaped diamonds embedded in it and little diamond shaped ones at each of the four corners. Ginny lifted it up out of the box and held it up to examine it, her eyes wide with delight.

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. "You like it?"

"Like it? Harry, it's beautiful!"

"If you don't like it, that's alright, just tell me. Just because its jewelry don't feel like you have to keep it, because I can take it back and exchange it, or get you something else…'

Ginny put a hand over his mouth. "Rambling."

"Right, sorry."

She ran a finger over the little green gems. "These are pretty."

"They're diamonds.' he said, peering at the pendant 'Apparently that's one of your birthstones. They're mystical; have ancient talismanic properties. Or, you know…so I heard."

"I didn't know that. How did you find that out?"

"I read a lot lately."

"About birthstones?"

"Yeah, and Equestrian Dressage, and Golf, and SCUBA diving…'

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You're a pillock. But a pillock with good taste."

Harry smiled. "So, you like it?"

"Yes, I love it. Thank you so much. You know you really didn't…'

'Didn't have to get you anything?' he finished for her, his eyebrows raised. 'Come on, as if I wouldn't get you something."

Ginny smiled. "I'd understand if you didn't, see as how you're mean to be spending every waking moment trying to save us all from impending doom and destruction."

"Who says what I'm reading wont help with that?"

"So, we're going to settle our differences with a nice round of Mini Golf?"

Harry glared at her. "You give a girl a nice bit of jewelry and look what happens."

Ginny laughed, pulled her hair over one shoulder and turned slightly toward him. "Will you put it on me?"

Harry swallowed back a moan as she turned her back on him fully, exposing her bare shoulders to him. Her top was one of those ones that tied up around her neck, leaving her shoulders bare that the muggle girls were starting to wear. Her shoulder blades, perfectly bare, white and smooth were exposed to him, and he had the almost irresistible urge to run his hands over it.

Controlling himself, he took the necklace off her, swung it around her neck and did up the little link at the base of her neck. His fingers brushed up against her skin, just where her back began, and he felt electricity shoot through his fingertips right through his whole body.

Thankfully, Ginny let her hair go, letting the long auburn locks cover the skin of her back. She turned around and smiled, looking down at her new necklace.

"It really is beautiful. And gold too!"

"I knew it was your favorite.' He said with a satisfied grin. 'Silver is just too Slytherin."

"You've got a point there!' she laughed.

As their grins died away, that uncomfortable pressure came back to fill the void. Harry looked down at her, and she looked right back up at him, both of them caught in a moment of indecision. Should I say something? Does he want me to hug him? Would I be leading her on if I gave her a kiss on the cheek?

"Well, er, I should go.' Said Harry, swinging his arms at his side as he backed away. 'I told mum I wouldn't be too long and, hey, still got that 'saving the world' gig to be getting on with."

"Sure, you've got to go…' she said softly, wishing that despite the fact her party was all girls, he'd stay.

Harry nodded, hesitated, and then very quickly leant forward, cupped her face in his hands and gave her a chaste peck on the lips.

"See you.' He grinned.

And then he was gone.

Ginny rolled her eyes and slumped against the wall behind her, her knees giving out a little at the last second. Her heart had already been going a million miles an hour; the last thing she needed was that kiss! Way to avoid cardiovascular problems.

She lifted her hand to her chest and fingered the small, diamond-shaped pendant while she looked dopily into the space that had only seconds before contained her world savior ex-boyfriend.

"Harry bloody Potter.' She giggled, shaking her head.

--------------

Remus peered around the corner into his bedroom to see his closet door wide open, clothes scattered on the floor and someone down on their hands and knees with their very cute bum sticking out into the room with their head stuck in the wardrobe.

He grinned, folded his arms over his chest and crossed his legs at the ankle, admiring the view for a moment. It wasn't the first time he'd busted her going through his things. She'd recently made her way through the kitchen, picking out crockery he no longer used, as well as cutlery and a few odd glasses. The time before that was the bathroom, and the time before that was in here. He didn't know what had brought her back, nor what it was that had sparked this spring cleaning flame within her suddenly.

But he didn't care, because the view was just too amazing to complain about.

He let his eyes wander freely over the curve of her backside as it stuck out unceremoniously into the room. The jeans she was wearing looked amazing on her, showing off all the right curves and kinks that he was still learning the territory of. She was so open, happy and confident with her body – just like she was with every other aspect of her life. It was one of the things that he liked about her so much. She didn't excuse herself for anything. If she wanted to talk loudly, she'd talk loudly. If she wanted to walk down to the shops in her pajamas at two thirty in the afternoon, she'd walk down in her pajamas at two thirty in the afternoon. And if she wanted to kneel in his wardrobe with her bum sticking out, she would.

Remus grinned and, unable to keep his silence anymore, cleared his throat. "Lost something?"

Tonks sat back, pulling herself out of the closet and looked around at him. "Oh, hey you. Um…looking for something? No, nothing in particular. Just…just looking, you know? Having a sticky nose and what-not."

"Uh-huh.' Said Remus nodding in mock seriousness. 'That's the excuse Kreacher used to give when he was looking for another of your great Aunt's repulsive possessions."

"Comparing a woman to a demented old house elf.' Said Tonks, nodding to herself. 'Gee, Remus, you really know how to flatter a girl."

"That is not what I meant.' He grinned, sitting down on the end of the bed. 'You'll just have to forgive my suspicion. You see, I don't normally have people going through all my worldly possessions like some sort of kleptomaniac."

Tonks smiled, kissed the top of his knee and went back into the closet. "I'm doing a public service, Remus. Half the stuff in here you never wear, and if you did you'd cause anyone who passed you to either faint, go blind or run in the other direction in horror."

Remus tilted his head to the side, looking at the 'back pockets of her jeans'. "Honestly, I don't dress _that_ badly."

"Compared to who? Boy George?"

"Strangely enough, I find myself quite insulted by your criticism."

Tonks laughed and came back out, holding a brown, short sleeved short in her hand. She tossed it up on the bed behind Remus, crawled forward and rested her elbows on his knees, looking up at him with big eyes.

"Did I insult you again?"

"Yes, I believe you did."

Tonks giggled and slipped the tips of her fingers in his pockets. "They're just shirts."

"And towels, and plates, and toothpaste, and aftershave, and razors…' he counted off, raising his eyebrows. 'What do you want with all this stuff? You can't possibly be using it."

If Remus didn't know any better, he would have taken her sudden change in expression for a guilty one.

Tonks bit her lip and looked down at the floor. "Well…maybe I just want some of your stuff at my place. You know…just incase you ever feel like you'd want to stay."

Remus blinked in surprise, startled that his normally logic mind had not considered this possibility. They hadn't talked about living arrangements. They'd only been together about a month after all. It had always been some sort of unspoken routine that Tonks would come over whenever she wanted and stayed for as long as she liked. He had been to her flat a few times, but had never really had the sense to ask if he could stay. It seemed foolish now that he hadn't.

He cleared his throat and rubbed her upper arms. "Alright, fine. You just rifle through whatever you want."

"Well, thank you for your unwanted permission, Remus."

Remus laughed and shook his head. "Don't you have somewhere to be? Like work?"

Tonks smiled and sat back on her heels. "No, Moody gave me the week off. He wants me to compile the minutes from our latest Order Meetings."

"Really? What for?"

"For Harry to go over."

Remus nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. I'm actually very surprised he hasn't asked to join officially yet."

"Knowing Harry, such a request wont be too far down on the 'World Hero's To-do list'.' Said Tonks, tapping her hands on his knees. 'We figured that if he wasn't going to ask for our help, we were going to give it to him anyway. No-one has to know about it, it's all very hush-hush.'

"Top secret information?' asked Remus, grinning.

"_Very_ top secret!' cried Tonks. 'And for your own safety I can disclose no more information at this time. Now push off, before people see us together."

Remus laughed and stood up as she crawled back into the closet. "Alright, fine. I'm going to get some tea, would you like some?"

"One sugar, black. Thanks babe!"

Taking one more glance at her backside, Remus pursed his lips and made his way out of the room through to the kitchen. He grabbed his wand off the small kitchen table as he passed and waved it toward the kettle. Instantly, it began boiling, whistling loudly as the temperature increased. He summoned a few cups and was just about to spoon sugar, when…

CRACK.

He smelt her before he saw her. He froze, his fingers wrapped around the spoon as it hovered just inches from the sugar bowl. He closed his eyes and inhaled, smelling that wondrous scent of flowers and home made cookies.

"Promise when I turn around you'll still be there.' He muttered.

He looked over his shoulder.

She was still there. Lily smiled at him, her hands in her back pockets and her hair up in a twist behind her head, held up with a clip. She had her head tilted to the side with a curios expression.

Remus grinned. "Lily."

"Remus.' She laughed, wriggling her eyebrows. 'Not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No! No, not at all! I was just…er…' he looked over his shoulder and laughed. 'I don't know what I was doing."

"Making tea?' she asked, coming over.

"Yes. Tea. That's right. I was making tea."

Lily smiled and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a hug. She felt him stiffen, but then slip his arms around her middle and hold her close. Lily closed her eyes as she held him, relieved to feel something so familiar and safe. He hadn't grown much since he was twenty one, but he had, if anything developed a little more muscle. It amused her to realize that his aftershave still hadn't changed either.

They pulled apart but kept a hold of each other's forearms, as if afraid the other would evaporate into thin air. Remus was still trying to get used to the idea that Lily, _his_ Lily, was still alive.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Well, I actually came over to see if you've got any books."

Remus gave her a look. "That's like asking a pub if they have any beer."

Lily rolled her eyes and hit him playfully.

"What sort were you looking for?' asked Remus.

"Um, anything on charms. Particularly ones on eccentric jinxes."

Remus nodded and considered his bookcase. "I think I may have something. Did you want simple ones? Complex ones?

"Either and both.' Said Lily, stepping back as Remus went over to his Mount Everest of books. 'I want to go in with as much knowledge as our spongy little brains can retain. Harry's school books don't really have a lot of offensive spells. We can't very well go about snatching up Death Eater Barracuda with spells designed to banish them and keep them away."

"Harry knows a lot of spells.' Said Remus, running his finger over the spines of his thick volumes. 'Or so Hermione tells me. And that means a lot, coming from her."

"Harry told me about how he taught charms and spells to a few kids a few years ago. Dumbledore's Army, I think he called it."

Remus grinned at her over his shoulder. "Molly wasn't too impressed, I can tell you that. I don't know who she was more upset with. Harry for starting it, or Sirius for encouraging it."

Lily snorted. "Figures Sirius would have been all up for that. What a good role model James and I chose.'

Any other person would have missed the sarcasm, but Remus simply laughed.

"A convict for a Godfather, a werewolf for a mentor and a stag for a father. It's a wonder the boy isn't in therapy by now." She said, shaking her head with a smile.

Remus smirked. "Give him a few more years. He'll get there."

Lily threw him a look. "That is not funny."

"Yes it is, it's hysterical. Cant you tell by my manic laughter?"

"You've been hanging around Sirius for too long!' she laughed, throwing a cushion at his head. 'You're even _talking_ like him."

"Well, _someone_ has to pick up the comical slack around here.' Muttered Remus.

"Never thought it would be you, though."

"No, me neither."

"Remus, where do you keep the Dust Bunny repell-…_holy fuck_!"

Remus and Lily whirled around to see Tonks standing at the entrance to the hallway, a single brown sock hanging limply in her hand and her wide, blue eyes locked on Lily.

Another of those long, tense silences then endured. Lily was looking at Tonks with a mixture of fear and interest. Tonks was staring at Lily with slack mouth in utter shock and disbelief. Remus was tensed up with his eyes narrowed, ready for any jinxes that were threatening to fly.

"Dora…just breathe.' Said Remus softly, moving around to take Tonks by the shoulders.

Tonks barely registered his presence. She was just staring at Lily, obviously completely at a loss of what to do, what to say or how to properly react.

Lily pursed her lips nervously, guessing that 'Hey, how you doing?' would be a very bad thing to say right now. She looked at Remus, surprised to see a commanding presence about him. He was looking at Tonks with an expression Lily didn't have a name for yet, but she knew it was a good one, regardless of its lack of description.

"Dora?' muttered Remus, putting a hand at the small of her back.

Tonks blinked rapidly, as if just waking up from her daze. She frowned at Lily and leant backward against Remus's chest. "Remus… isn't that Harry's mother?' she whispered.

Remus nodded. "Yes, that's Lily."

"Isn't she one of your best friends?"

"Yes, she is."

"Isn't she supposed to be dead?"

Lily bit her lip to keep from laughing. Remus's mouth twitched, but he otherwise didn't react.

"Yes, she is.' He said softly. 'But not any more."

"Oh, I see." Muttered Tonks, looking as though she didn't see at all.

Lily rubbed her hands together. "You must be Nympha– er…' she stopped at the warning expression Remus was giving her over Tonks's shoulder. 'Er…Tonks."

Tonks nodded. "Yeah, that's me."

"Look, er…why don't we sit down?' said Remus, trying to change the tension into a positive one.

"Yeah…before I collapse.' Said Tonks. She made to sit down, but looked around at Remus with an alarmed expression. 'Does Harry know she's back?"

Remus laughed. "Sit down, Dora, and I'll catch you up."

* * *

A/N – Whoa man, how long did this chapter take to post, huh? Life's a pain when it's so full, you can't even get a moment to sit down and write! Gah, I can't work in these conditions! Heh, just kidding.

Please review!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15!

* * *

"Something's nagging at me, Ron."

"Yeah…my jocks tend to do that too. Right here, at the crack of my…'

"No, not my underwear! Voldemort!"

"Voldemort is having problems with his underwear?"

Harry resisted the urge to thump his forehead on the table. "Are you being deliberately stupid today?"

Ron laughed and threw a scrunched up piece of parchment across the dining table at Harry's head. "Well, you said something was nagging at you, and you keep fidgeting in your chair…'

"Because I'm _restless_, you tosser. Not because I have a wedgie."

"Well, excuse me for caring.' Huffed Ron in mock indignation.

Harry snorted. "Don't do that, you look like Hermione."

"Hermione must be amazingly handsome then." Grinned Ron, puffing his chest out.

"You would know."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

Ron pursed his lips and kicked his feet up on the table, leaning his chair back on the two back legs. Cradling his bottle of Butterbeer in his lap, he considered Harry for a moment, wondering if it was just his imagination, or if Harry looked suddenly twenty years older than he actually was.

"Alright then, come on, out with it.' Said Ron. 'What's eating at you?"

Harry leant his elbows on the table and was silent for a moment. Sub-consciously, he pulled out the locket stuffed in the collar of his red polo shirt and clutched it fiercely in his fist, as if afraid Ron were going to take it off him. "Well…I've been sleeping really well these past few weeks."

Ron blinked. "No nightmares? That's a first."

"I'm still having the odd nightmare. You know, seeing green light and Dumbledore…' Harry paused. 'It's just that I haven't had a nightmare about Voldemort in ages, and its worrying me."

"Well, it's not like you haven't felt anything from him.' Said Ron thoughtfully. 'You still get pain in your scar sometimes, and that always means something, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, but I usually get some sort of vision afterward.' Argued Harry gently. 'And I haven't gotten one. Not even a flash. It's like he pokes me with evilness, and then runs off again. I don't know if he does it to be annoying or what. It doesn't make any sense."

"Nothing that skitzo does _ever_ makes any sense.' Said Ron, deadpan.

During the thoughtful pause of their conversation, Hermione breezed into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, and without a word rushed over to the table, snatched a large book up from the many that were scattered over the table and rushed out of the room again. Harry and Ron didn't even blink.

Harry sighed and ruffled his hair. "I know I should sound grateful that I don't have any visions anymore, but I can't help but feel a little anxious about it. When I could get inside his mind, I could try and see what he's up to. He must be doing Occlumency all the time, because I can't see anything."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "You haven't been _trying_ to see anything, have you?"

"Not deliberately if that's what you mean."

Ron gave him a look, seeing full-well through Harry's indignant lie. "Harry, you shouldn't go trying to get inside his head. If he senses you, if he knows what you're up to…'

"Alright, enough!' snapped Harry. 'I didn't admit this to you so I could get a bloody lecture in return! If I'd wanted that, I'd have gone to Hermione, or your mother, or _my_ mother for that matter!"

Ron frowned. "Okay, fine! Don't go getting snappy at me! I'm just trying to help."

Harry glared at Ron for a moment, before his expression softened and he looked away. "Sorry. I should be snapping at you."

"No, you shouldn't."

"I'm just a little on edge, is all."

Ron smirked. "Any more on edge and you'd be over the edge and into the murky water below."

Harry looked around at him and snorted.

"Maybe he's trying to be careful, just like you should be.' Said Ron, taking another sip of his drink. 'If he finds out that you know about the Horcruxes, he'll gather them all up and hide them somewhere you'll never get them. Instead of trying to get into his head, maybe you should concentrate on trying to keep him out of yours."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "That was very profound advice.' He said, looking at Ron as if he'd never seen him before. 'Who are you and what have you done with blissfully ignorant Ron?"

Ron rolled his eyes and took another swig of his Butterbeer. "You wanted my advice, I gave it to you. You don't like it? Stiff cheddar."

"I didn't say I didn't like it, you oaf!' laughed Harry. 'It's just not like you to be so…practical."

"The times, they are a-changing.' Shrugged Ron simply.

Harry examined Ron's posture long after he had looked away. This wasn't the first time Ron had shown his, until now, undiscovered maturity. Harry didn't know what had triggered such a profound change his best friend, nor did he really care. It didn't change Ron from the funny, loyal friend he had always been. It just made his advice somewhat more helpful than his usual 'Run for the hills' or 'Really break your leg' advice.

"Speaking of…' said Ron, sitting up on his seat properly. 'Any idea of where any of the other Horcruxes may be?"

"About as much of an idea I had back in June."

"That good, huh?"

Harry sighed. "If only I could get information off him. If I could perform Legilimency, and search his memories…'

"Insert big neon 'NO' here please!' cried Ron. 'Seriously mate; do you ever get that little voice in your head that says 'This is a bad idea'?"

"It's not a bad idea.' Said Harry defensively. 'It would only be a quick look…"

"You don't even know how to perform Legilimency, and there's no one around barmy enough to teach you!'

Hermione ran in again, dropped a book on the table with a THUD, picked up several more and ran back out again.

"_Now_ who's getting irate?' said Harry, quirking an eyebrow.

Ron glared at him, scrunched up another piece of parchment and pitched at his forehead. "You can't just go looking into other people's heads. It's creepy."

"It's Voldemort."

"Even more creepy. Who knows what the old man fantasizes about?"

"Death and mayhem?" suggested Harry.

"Strawberries and ice-cream?"

"Water-skiing in Hawaii?"

"Running away and joining the circus?"

Both boys were shuddering with laughter by now. Harry was glad that Ron was there with him that afternoon. He could lighten up most situations, and it was just what Harry needed to make sure he didn't get bogged down and absorbed into his research.

"What are you two laughing about?' came a familiar reprimand from behind them.

Harry and Ron looked around as Hermione made her way over to the table, a large book in her arms and a curious smile on her face.

"Nothing you'd find amusing, I'm sure.' Said Ron, exchanging a smirk with Harry.

Hermione's eyes narrowed at Ron. "You know, I actually do have something of a sense of humor."

"Could have fooled us." Muttered Ron.

Hermione clenched her jaw, moved forward and slammed the book down on the table. Right on Ron's fingers.

"_OW_! You crazy cow!"

"I'm sorry, Ron, I can't hear you. My maturity and prudishness are blocking my ears.' Said Hermione kindly. 'Harry, have you found out anything on Slytherin's blood line yet?"

"No, Professor Granger, I haven't.' said Harry, rolling his eyes.

Hermione blinked and smiled. "Mmm, '_Professor Granger_' – I like it."

"God help the kids who end up with you as their professor.' Muttered Ron irritably, shaking his hand with a wince.

"And God help the kids who end up with you as their father.' Retorted Hermione, keeping her eyes fixated on the books on the table.

Ron didn't snap back, just glared daggers at her while nursing his hand.

"Where have you been running off to anyway?' asked Harry, hoping to change the subject.

"Well, I've been pouring over that note you found with the locket. You know, the one from this R.A.B person?"

"Yes, I know, I've been following."

Hermione sat herself down and rubbed her jaw. "There's something bugging me about it. Like… it's familiar somehow. But I can't imagine how – I don't know anybody with those initials. Do you?"

"No.' said Harry, shaking his head. 'And I know what you mean about the familiarity. It's something I can't quite put my finger on. Like its staring me in the face, but I can't see it."

"Maybe you need to clean your glasses.' Offered Ron.

Harry smiled at him.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I tried doing a variation of spells so I could try and get some more clues as to who it may have been who wrote it. But, so far I haven't been able to turn up much."

Harry felt his hope drain out of him like someone had pulled the plug to the sink of his ambition. If Hermione was having trouble, then there was little hope for the rest of them. But, then again, Hermione hadn't been able to find out anything about Horcruxes either. Maybe she wasn't all-knowing after all.

"What about The Veil?' enquired Harry softly. 'Found out anything about that?"

"Not a whole lot, sadly. They're all very tight-lipped on everything down there. Very mysterious."

"Can't imagine why the call it 'The Department of Mysteries' then.' Muttered Ron, folding his arms over his chest.

Hermione threw him a look, before continuing. "But that doesn't discourage me. I'll find something. There has to be something; even if that means I have to go down to the Ministry itself."

"You can't do that!' said Harry, sitting up straight in alarm. 'You can't just walk into the Ministry of Magic and start asking questions about one of the most prestigious and questionable departments under their control!"

"Why not?' asked Hermione, her eyebrows raised.

"Well, because…er…' stuttered Harry, looking at Ron for back-up. When he saw he wasn't going to get any, he frowned at Hermione. 'Because it'll raise questions, that's why. Everyone knows you went down there with me. Everyone knows Sirius was killed down there."

"Honestly, Harry, I think I might know how to handle it.' Said Hermione matter-o-factly. 'I'll just say I'm doing an extra credit assignment for school or something. They'll buy into it."

"Says you.' Said Harry.

"Besides, it was just an option.' She said.

Ron harrumphed. "Seems to be 'Crazy Idea Day' in this place today."

Hermione sighed. "You know, Ronald, you really shouldn't mumble. People can't understand you."

"Something you'd know a lot about."

There was a moment of tense silence, and then Hermione stood up with more force that was probably necessary, grabbed up a few more books and looked around at Harry.

"I'll be in the drawing room, reading, if anyone wants me."

And without any comment to Ron, she flipped her hair over her shoulder, squared her shoulders and stormed out of the room, 'accidentally' whacking Ron's shoulder with the corner of one of her books as she passed.

Harry covered his mouth with his hand to hide his sniggers as Ron cried out and whirled around in his seat just in time to throw a death glare at the kitchen door as it swung shut. He sat back around with a grumpy pout, rubbing his shoulder while still cradling his left hand.

"Crazy bint.' He muttered.

"Did you have to stir her?"

"She started it!"

"How did she start it?"

"Uh, maybe it could have been when she _smashed all the bones in my hand with her bloody book_?"

Harry laughed and shook his head.

"Oh sure, go ahead and snigger.' Grumbled Ron, throwing another glare at the door. 'But I don't think I remember laughing when you lost all the bones in _your_ arm."

"Oh, get over it, you pansy."

Harry sat back in his seat and surveyed the dining table in front of him. There was hardly any room left for real meals anymore. Harry had brought all his notes down from his room, including his school books and the volumes his mother had collected from Remus's place the other day, and had laid them all down on the dining room table. It was the only surface big enough in the house to place them all. While it was a different atmosphere from the cocoon style environment he had become accustomed to, he was starting to like this new method as well. The larger area meant that Lily, Hermione, Ron and anyone else could also get in and try and find something Harry may have missed. Although he still felt a little hesitant about the help, he was also rather grateful for the strain it eased on his mind.

Harry sighed and ruffled his hair. "I wonder what he's doing now."

Ron looked over at him. "Who?"

"Gilderoy Lockhart.' Said Harry sarcastically. 'Who do you _think_?"

"Back to You-Know-Who, are we?"

"Always.' Sighed Harry.

Ron rubbed his eyes. "Look, you shouldn't obsess so much. Yeah, I know, its your job to defeat him, 'power the Dark Lord knows not', blah blah blah…' said Ron quickly, seeing Harry ready to retort. 'But I would think you'd be enjoying a few days of peace! There's been no reports of murders or killings, or attacks, or kidnappings…'

"That's what bothers me.' said Harry darkly. 'He's lulling everyone into a false sense of security."

"Maybe he just wants them taking a long weekend off.' Offered Ron.

Harry threw him a look. "Are you serious? They're Death Eaters! They don't have 'long weekends'!"

"Well, they're certainly not out causing menace and mayhem, are they?"

"They have to be doing _something_.' Said Harry insistently, a manic gleam to his eyes. 'They can't just be sitting around playing Rock, Paper, Scissors, now can they?"

--------------

"Ha! I win!"

"You do not win at all you miserable, cheating rodent!"

"Yes I do so! Rock smashes Paper!"

"No, Rock smashes _Scissors_."

"When did they change the rules?"

"It's always been that way, idiot! Anyway, Paper covers Rock, so _I_ win!"

Bellatrix watched from the doorway, completely astounded as she watched Goyle and Wormtail suddenly get into a sort of sumo wrestle on the floor in front of the fire. How the two stupidest oafs in the entire free world could have come into the service of one of the most brilliant, powerful wizards of all time was completely beyond her ability to comprehend; particularly when one of them was nothing but a filthy Gryffindor.

She felt arms snake around her middle and the tickle of a goatee behind her ear.

"Come away from the Nursery, dear,' said a cool, familiar voice in her ear. 'I'd hate to think you'd want to put the poor infantiles out of their misery.

Bella smirked and spun around to look up into her husbands' dark, handsome face. "Afraid I'll get clucky, are you?"

Rodolphus laughed, put his hands on her hips and pulled her away from the open doorway behind her. "Not at all. I know how children repulse you."

"They don't repulse me.' she cooed, wrapping her arms around his torso. 'I just find their lack of intelligence to be grotesque. Except for little Draco. He was always the exception."

He smirked, led her around into the nearest empty corridor and harshly pressed her up against the wall. Bella let out a grunt, but there was a sadistic grin on her face as Rodolphus pinned her against the wall, holding her wrists above her head.

"I don't know,' he murmured, bending to kiss along her exposed collarbone, 'I wouldn't mind an heir."

"Then you can carry it.' She said, letting her eyes fall shut. 'I refuse to get fat and loose my magnificent body. It was bad enough spending all that time in prison, getting atrociously thin and having these bags under my eyes and…_ah_…' she gasped as he sucked on a sensitive spot.

"Narcissa did it,' he remarked.

Bella's eyes darkened, and she smacked the top of his head and shoved him away. Rodolphus cried out in surprise and rubbed the top of his head, looking at her in irritation.

"What in Merlin's name was _that_ for?' he snapped.

"'_Narcissa did it'_.' She spat, imitating his low voice. 'That's not something you say to your wife when you're snogging her. Especially when it's my baby sister!"

"I was just saying…"

"I know what you were just saying.' She snapped.

And with one final shove, she flipped her long black hair over her shoulder and stormed off.

Bella muttered angrily to herself, not really paying any attention to where it was she was going. She knew the layout of this house so well now she probably could have navigated its halls blindfolded. To an outsider, every dusty corner and every creaky floor would have looked the same. But to her, each was as different as the members of her old house. Its dank, depressing atmosphere was soothing, and she felt calmer even now.

She passed two other Death Eaters and kept her head down, knowing that they were giving her side-long looks. It had been happening a lot lately; ever since that debacle back in June at Hogwarts. Ever since Draco had botched up the job he had been assigned to, and Severus had carried out for him, and they had run off to escape capture by the Ministry. No-one had heard anything from them since. Both of them were in hiding from both sides, and as a result Narcissa had never been more miserable.

The two sisters had not been on the best terms since then. Narcissa was laying some of the blame on Bella, using the accusation that it was because of Bella's pressure and unwanted encouragement that her son had taken up this assignment in the first place. Bella was furious at Narcissa for accusing her of such a thing, when it had been Draco's uninfluenced decision to take on this duty himself. Just because she had giving him a few words on how it was his duty and it would put his father back in the good books with their Lord and would gain him respect and power in certain circles, didn't meant she had _influenced_ him in any way.

When Bella finally stopped walking, it didn't surprise her to find herself at the door that concealed her master's chambers. She often lurked around his proximity, hoping to gain a glance or nod, or feel his power reverberating off him, or simply stand in his presence and feel the reassurance that she was where she needed to be – under his reign.

She tentatively raised her hands and rapped her knuckles gently on the cool, wooden door. There was no answer. She leant forward and pressed her ear against the door, hearing no sounds. She knew he was in there, and knew she shouldn't disturb him. But she needed to be near him. Needed his aura of evil to soak into her skin, like a healing balm of malice. She needed to be energized once again.

"My Lord?' she called softly, knocking again.

She opened the door inward, wincing at the creaks it made and poked her head in. He was sitting on the footstool by the crackling fire, his legs crossed and his back upright. His hands were resting softly on his knees as his chest rose and fell with an easy, predictable rhythm as he meditated. Half his pale, snake-like face was illuminated with a soft golden gold from the fire, while the other half was hidden in shadow. His large silhouette was thrown up the wall behind him, making him look very impressive. The atmosphere of the room was dark and eerie, and Bella couldn't suppress her smile as it drowned her.

Bella entered the room completely and closed the door quietly behind her. She made her way over to him, all the while shivering not from fear, but from awe. "My Lord? Forgive my intrusion."

He made no gesture in recognition of her presence, simply remained silent as if she were nothing but a whisper of wind.

Bella tilted her head as she sat down in the winged leather chair adjacent to him. "My Lord, what do you see?"

"Incompetence.' He hissed, his brows knotting together. 'Incompetence, Bella, for not recognizing your Lord's need to be in solace."

"Yes, forgive me, my Lord.' Said Bella hastily, bowing her head respectfully. 'I meant not to intrude."

"Ah, but you did.' He said a smirk playing on his lips. 'You are too eager, and it will be your own foolish mistake in the future. Eagerness is only one small step away from clumsiness, and you know I can have no clumsiness in my circle."

"No, my Lord."

Voldemort sighed impatiently, opened his eyes and glared at her. "What do you want, Bella?"

"Just to know, please…what is the purpose of such a peaceful pastime?' she asked, unable to lie. It didn't matter if she tried; he would call her on it anyway.

Voldemort grinned, baring his yellow teeth. "Why, to see into the working of the other side, of course. A simple task none of my faithful Death Eaters have yet been able to fully accomplish."

"Send more of us, my Lord. We can try again…"

"You will try and you will fail.' He said shortly. 'Besides, what it is I seek, no other can retrieve."

Bella struggled to keep her mouth shut as he closed his eyes again, drew in a long deep breath and then let it out again. She didn't know what it was he could be doing. Was he trying to conjure a premonition? There were only a few Diviners left in the modern world, and as far as she knew the Dark Lord, despite all his greatness, was not one of them.

"Please, master…' she said hesitantly. 'What is it you seek?"

"Silence!' he snapped.

She clamped her mouth shut again, opting to watch him for a moment before speaking again. His long, pale face was expressionless as he meditated. No hint of malice or hate, or venom or malevolence. Just an eerie, unusual calm, as if someone had slipped him a Serenity Draught in his wine.

But then he winced. His face screwed up as if he were in pain, and as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, leaving him at peace again. His breathing was a little faster and heavier, but otherwise he seemed unharmed. Bella's curiosity was peaked, but she didn't dare speak yet. Not if she wanted to keep her tongue attached.

So, on it went, for hours it seemed. The Dark Lord sat there with immeasurable patience, so completely taken away from the physical world it seemed he would be in danger of not coming back. Bella watched his face as it went through the now predictable routine. He would sit in calm for a few minutes, then would wince and sometimes breathe a soft grunt of effort, before he slowly relaxed and started the whole process again. Bella was intrigued as to what it was he was looking for. What was it he sought? Did he wish to see the end of the Mudbloods? The end of the War? The end of the universe? He could do it if he wanted to. Bella knew, he could do anything.

Suddenly, there was a very loud crack, and Bella jumped as small pieces of plaster fell from the increasingly large split in the ceiling. She looked over at Voldemort to see if he noticed what was going on around him, but he was still sitting there, stiff as a doorknob with a furious look on his face.

He swore loudly and came out of his trance. Bella could do nothing but watch as he stood up, shouting murderously and breaking half the furniture in the room as he paced with his raw magic running ramped. She could feel the fury and power coming off him in waves, and it sent a violent thrill up her spine.

"Curse that boy into the fiery depth of hell!" cried Voldemort one last time, before finally coming to a halt. The furniture stopped snapping in half and the window panes stopped shaking as he sat down in the other winged chair opposite Bella, looking a little exhausted.

"My Lord!' cried Bella, jumped out of her seat and kneeling before him. 'Are you alright?"

"Cease your concern, my faithful servant.' He hissed in that low, bone chilling voice. So calm and confident. 'I neither need nor want it."

"Master…please…' whispered Bella, her head bowed. 'What it is you saw?"

Voldemort leant his elbow on the armrest and rested his chin with his thumb and forefinger as he considered the woman bowed before him. Considered her servitude, allegiance and unwavering loyalty. "I saw…nothing."

Bella lifted her head a little, but did not look him in the face. "Nothing, my Lord?"

"Indeed, I was not able to penetrate him.' He spat, feeling extremely angry. 'It seems that despite recent events, our vexatious young Mr. Potter is in an unusually good mood"

Her lips parted in a silent gasp of surprise as she finally understood; he had been trying to see into Potter mind. To see what Potter saw. Now she knew why he had been wincing as if in pain. She remembered from when they last confronted Potter, at the Department of Mysteries. When the Dark Lord had possessed him for a few moments, but had then retracted, howling in pain. She had discovered that her Lord could not connect their mental link whenever Potter was happy, or feeling a particularly strong emotion like it.

"This is war.' She muttered angrily, shaking her head. 'What can the brat have to be _happy_ about? Dumbledore is dead, his traitorous Godfather is dead…'

"And yet, he still find reason to smile.' Finished Voldemort, his lip curled into a venomous sneer of distaste. 'Love; such a horrible emotion. It clouds you, confuses you, makes you weak and vulnerable. That is why they never win. Their mercy and compassion hold them back, make their decisions harder to make. Create controversy, debate and hesitation."

Bella sighed contently. "Malice is so much simpler."

Voldemort grinned down at her. "Ah, but it is, my dear Bellatrix. We are not restricted by the confines of compassion or understanding. That is why we are always one step ahead, and always will be. The world is black and white, and nothing more."

Bella smiled and bowed again. "As it is, my Lord."

Voldemort exhaled slowly though his nose, narrowing his red eyes thoughtfully. "But, this restriction from him will not do if I am to gain knowledge of their plans. There must be a way to strip the boy of such horrid emotions."

"Perhaps a little more tragedy?' offered Bella. 'Pluck the strings of guilt of the large emotional guitar he carries around?"

The Dark Lord laughed venomously and put a hand on her shoulder. "Rise, my friend."

Shivering with excitement, Bella rose to her feet, keeping her head down, her black hair creating a curtain around her face. "Have I pleased you, my Lord?"

"My pleasure at my failure is non-existent, yet I find myself quivering at the certain possibilities you have presented.' He said softly, almost kindly. 'Potter's barriers will be easier to push aside once he is depressed and wallowing in adolescent self-pity. As it has been said, so very wisely, 'When the Lord closes a door, somewhere he open's a window'. I believe a window of opportunity has been opened to us, Bella. Gather my inner circle. Tell them to meet me here within the hour. I wish to conduct a special meeting."

Bella bowed once again. "Yes my Lord, right away."

--------------

Hermione paced back and forth in front of the window, her hear bowed and her brow knotted in concentration. Her hair was pulled back away from her face, as it had become irritating falling into her eyes every time she tried to read. On the desk behind her was evidence of her frustration. Books laid open at random pages, scrunched up, ripped and scribbled on pieces of parchment lay strewn on any available desk space. Three broken quills also lay randomly, with a forth unbroken one sitting in the inkpot.

She stopped her pacing and sighed, rubbing her tired eyes. What was it she was missing? It was sitting there, right in front of her, plain as day, and she couldn't see it. It was infuriating, and she didn't know whether to scream in anger or cry at her failure. The Horcruxes couldn't surely be that hard to find, could they? Dumbledore had found them using the knowledge he had on Voldemort, and if he could do it then so could she. She was Hermione Granger, for God's sake. No-one was smarter, or more equipped to handle research than her.

Hermione sighed and relaxed her shoulders, rolling them while stretching her neck from side to side. She felt as if she'd been doing nothing but studying for the past three weeks – and she probably had. She looked out the window and the beautiful blue sky and felt another pang. She wanted to be out in that weather, not stuck inside a stuffy old drawing room.

_No, don't think about that_. She told herself. _There's plenty of time for sun baking after you've found the Horcruxes and destroyed them and gone to war and watched Harry kill Voldemort while you take on possibly hundreds of Death Eaters. _

She rolled her eyes and looked around the room for a mind-numbing object. She remembered the torture they went through two summers ago trying to get this place clean. All the dust and the Doxy's and the Boggarts… now it still looked as good as it had been once they'd all finished exorcising it.

A flicker of light caught her attention, and she looked at the glass display cabinet. She remembered when they had cleaned it out, taking out all the little trinkets the Black Family had claimed ownership to. There had been that jinxed singing box, and that necklace, and that Order of Merlin for unknown greatness and other vile things that no-one could possibly ever want. In her own glass cabinet at home, she had pictures of her parents, and her old model horses, and her trophies from her old Piano recitals.

Funny how families differed.

Turning away from the cabinet, Hermione went over to the window and looked out into the courtyard. In abstract, it was a very quiet day. But in her head were several nagging voices, analyzing over every inch of information she had read so far, nagging at her attention despite her many attempts to try and quiet them. Nothing ever seemed to be able to help her switch off the constant noise in her head.

She ran her hands through her ponytail and blew air through her lips, looking for something, _anything_, to distract her for a moment. Conveniently enough, the most eye catching thing in the room was the half-blasted Black Family Tree. She moved around so she was standing right in front of it, folded her arms over her chest and pursed her lips as she considered it, taking in the heading of _Toujours Pur_.

Hermione sniffed. _Always pure my backside._

Little gold threads spread everywhere like an intricate spiders web, connecting so many different families together. Hermione unintentionally led her eyed wander to the far side where there was a particularly large, singed hole where the Wealsey family should have been. She smiled at it, and followed the line back through the families. So many wizards and witches, all of them obsessed with the insignificance of blood purity. The entire concept was just so pathetic to her. She didn't truly understand how people could be so narrow minded and prejudice. It was the same with Werewolves, and House Elves.

Especially House Elves.

Despite the sick feeling the thoughts of some people on this tapestry brought to her stomach, she couldn't help but recognize the lengths they went to to try and live up to their beliefs…even if some didn't follow the trend. Like Tonks and her mother; they weren't at all like Bellatrix and Malfoy's mother. Neither was Sirius.

Hermione felt another tug at her heartstrings. She leant forward and smiled sadly at the little blasted-out piece of material beside 'Regulus Black'. Harry wasn't the only one feeling the loss of Sirius. Hermione had been fond of Sirius, despite his appalling influences. He was smart and loyal and a very good wizard and friend, and it was a tragedy to loose him. She supposed it was lucky Sirius had met James Potter. Maybe, their friendship not-withstanding, Sirius may have turned out a lot different. He may have turned out like his little brother, Regulus. Become a Slytherin, joined in league with the Death Eaters, done horrendous tasks for Voldemort as Reguls had done before he died…

Hermione blinked.

She leant forward, squinting at the golden letters of 'Regulus Black.' He only lived until 1979…making him barely eighteen. 1979 – only two years before Voldemort's downfall by Harry. From what she could gather so far from second-hand information, Regulus had been fighting his way into the inner circles of the Death Eater community, and if he was anything as cunning as Sirius, he would have tried to do so with slyly gaining information to his advantage. Sirius had said that Regulus had gotten in too far for his own good. What had he discovered on his journey inward?

Discovered about Horcruxes perhaps?

Hermione whirled around and looked around at the glass cabinet again, thinking about that necklace they had found. That really heavy one. The one they couldn't open…

She spun back around, her heart pounding a million miles an hour. She stared at the name again, running it over and over in her head.

_Regulus Black…Regulus Black…R.B…R.A.B… _

Hermione's eyes widened to the size of saucers, and taking in a deep breath, she stumbled toward the door, ready to scream…

"_HARRY_!"

* * *

A/N – now we're getting into it! Now, I like most of you have no idea if RAB actually is Regulus, but I think it'd be a pretty big coincidence if it wasn't. So, seen as this is fiction, and I am the author, we're taking it this way!

Please review!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16!

* * *

The door to the attic banged open so hard it vibrated dangerously on its hinges, almost to the point of snapping. But Harry took no notice of the loud crack of wood or the eruption of dust it caused, for he had thrown himself in front of the large pile of dusty boxes, his green eyes wide with an intense focus.

Not even bothering to turn on a light, Harry wasted no time in grabbing the nearest box, pulling it toward him and ripping it open. He paused only a moment to examine the contents, before reaching in and pulling out each item, throwing it over his shoulder carelessly when it turned out to be not what he was looking for. Once that box was empty, he would chuck the cardboard container aside and grab another one, ripping that open and sorting hurriedly through its contents as well.

Dust Bunnies were running for cover as Harry bashed his way through the stacks of boxes, knocking them aside as he barreled his way through their barricade to the large boxes at the back, down on his hands and knees. Harry didn't care if there was anything fragile within the boxes he was flinging aside. He only cared about finding it amongst all this junk. All this useless junk…

Ron entered the room at a slow jog. He only had a second to look down at Harry as he shoved more boxes out of his way, before a large, silver candelabrum went flying past his head. It hit the wall behind him with a dull THUD and fell to the floor just by Ron's feet.

Ron's eyes widened and he looked back around at Harry, ready to dodge any more flying hazards. "Er…mate? What're you doing?"

"I'm toilet training a Thestral.' Said Harry, deadpan. He didn't stop his frantic rummaging or look up at Ron at all.

"Yeah, I know what you're _doing_, but why are you doing it like _that_?' asked Ron, folding his arms over his chest.

Harry didn't answer, just kept up his pillage; his brows knotted together in an expression of fiery, stubborn determination.

Ron sighed. "Harry, you don't even know if its still here."

"It has to be here."

"And how do you expect to find it when you're flinging shit everywhere?"

Harry stopped dead still and looked into space, his jaw clenching. It was eerily quiet, but Ron could have sworn he head something smash downstairs. "Why are you here if you're not going to offer any helpful advice like you did this morning?' sneered Harry.

"Hey, I didn't _want_ to come up here. Hermione made me. You think I want to be here and possibly get attacked or blown up or jinxed or god-knows what else you can do when you get pissed?' said Ron, his eyebrows raised. 'I'm not _that_ barmy."

"Neither is Hermione if she sent you instead of coming up here herself." Muttered Harry, shaking his head.

Ron stepped forward, grabbed Harry's shirt and yanked him up to his feet. Harry swayed, finding his balance and looked at Ron with wide eyes of surprise. Sometimes he could forget just how strong Ron actually was. Ron had flared up, as if he wanted to yell at Harry, or shake him until his glasses fell off his nose, but instead he simply let out a slow breath, relaxed and dusted some dirt off Harry's shoulder.

"Don't be an idiot, alright?' said Ron. 'You're a wizard. You have a wand. You know how to use a Summoning spell…just stop being a pillock for one minute and _think_."

Funnily enough, for the second time that day Harry found himself actually finding benefit from listening to Ron's calm, thoughtful advice. Harry was a million different feelings at once. He wanted to shove Ron away and continue his search, he wanted to pull Ron down and make him help in the search, he wanted to punch Ron for being so calm over something so important, he wanted to thank Ron for his realistic approach…

Harry sighed and patted his pockets. "I left it downstairs."

Without another word, Ron pulled his wand out of the back pocket of his jeans, held it up in a neutral position in front of him and commanded '_Accio Horcrux_."

Nothing happened.

"SHITE!' roared Harry angrily. This time, Ron was sure he heard something break downstairs. Harry was snorting and panting like an angry bull at a gate, waiting impatiently to be let out and attack someone. He paced, fisting his hair in frustration and kicking things furiously out of his path.

Ron could do nothing but let him fume. If he tried to make to stop him, he knew Harry would clock him one, and it would hurt something chronic. It was something Ron had learnt over his seven years of knowing Harry – trying to step in when the movie had already started would only end in a very sore ending.

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, his chest heaving. "I _knew_ it wouldn't be here. I had this feeling my chest. It was just _too easy_. Life can't be easy for me, can it? It can't just be in a _convenient_ spot, ready for me to destroy it."

"It _was_ in a convenient spot.' Said Ron. 'It was in that cabinet the whole time."

"Yes, but we didn't know what the hell Horcruxes _were_ back then, _did we_?' said Harry, eyebrows raised as if daring Ron to answer his rhetorical question. He shook his head and pursed his lips. 'If only Dumbledore had told me about them sooner, had have warned me…'

"Don't get stuck on the what-if's, mate.' Said Ron, rolling his eyes. 'Dumbledore could have done a lot of things differently in the past, but that doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything. We know now where the real one was. We know it was here, and that R.A.B was Regulus. That's all we _wanted_ to know, isn't it?"

Harry looked at him for a long moment, not saying anything. The wheels in his head were spinning so fast he felt giddy. Nothing mattered now. Nothing mattered but getting that necklace back in this house; back in his possession.

Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, just because it isn't in the attic, doesn't mean it isn't in the house at all. Maybe Kreacher nicked off with it; stuffed it in his little rat hole. Or maybe we packed it in a different box in a different room…"

"Even if we had, it would have come when you summoned it.' Said Harry, sounding hopeless.

"I wasn't concentrating enough, Harry.' Said Ron insistently. 'It could still be in the house. There's heaps of junk in this stupid old building it could be hidden under!"

"And what junk is that?' asked Harry, letting a grim smile grace his features. 'The junk Mundungus hasn't got his filthy little hands on yet?"

"Hey, I was looking in our old room, and there's still a lot of…Harry?"

Ron frowned. Harry had gone into and almost deathly calm. His face was stony and his hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides. Ron recognized this face for two meanings. He had just spotted Malfoy and wanted to knock him into next week, or he'd just realized something very bad.

"Harry? You still with me?"

Harry looked up at Ron, his green eyes almost on fire with rage. "Mundungus.' He muttered.

And without another explanation, he stormed out of the attic, leaving random boxes to explode behind him.

---------------

"_Mum_!"

In relation to old mother's tales, Lily had never understood the concept how a mother could always find their child in a crowd just from the way they walked, or could hear the sound of their voice across a room and instantly know it was them. But when she heard his voice suddenly break through the monotone haze of low café chatter, Lily looked up from the books on the counter toward the door.

Harry was fighting his way through the obstacle course of tables, chairs and people to get to her, and even from the distance she could tell he looked very harassed and stressed from the way he carried himself.

"Harry? What on earth is the matter?' she asked, dropping her pen.

Finally getting to her, Harry leant heavily against the counter, panting as though he'd just run a hundred miles to get there. His eyes were wide and he looked pale as if he were going to be sick.

"Harry, talk to me!' said Lily, putting a hand on his cheek. 'You're scaring me. What's happened?"

"Its…I…' he stuttered. He took a breath and composed himself. 'I found it, Mum."

Lily's eyes widened. "It?"

"Yeah, 'It'. You know…' he sighed impatiently, looked around to make sure they weren't being watched and leant in closer to her to whisper, 'the thing we've been looking for."

"You mean…"

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean."

"Oh my god, Harry…' she spluttered for a few moments, quite unable to say anything intelligible, before she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him around behind the counter, into the back, through the kitchen and into the alley out the back. 'You actually found a _Horcrux_?"

"Yeah! Well, Hermione did actually…'

"Of course she did.' Said Lily, shaking her head with a smile. 'Which one did you find?"

Harry reached into his shirt and pulled out the locket. "This one."

Lily looked up at him and suddenly frowned. "You went looking for Horcruxes without me?"

"What? No, I didn't…'

"You went gallivanting all over the country, facing God-knows what, and you didn't even have the decency to come and _tell me_?' she cried, poking him in the chest.

Harry backed off a little, rubbing his chest. "No, Mum, its not…'

"I can't _believe _this!' she yelled, throwing her hands up. 'You know, your father did the exact same thing to me when we were younger. Would just pack up and leave and go on one of his ridiculous little missions with Remus, Peter and Sirius and wouldn't even tell me he was going!"

"Mum…"

"He'd come in and see me the next morning, and _then_ tell me!' she ranted. 'Fat lot of good it would have done him if something horrible had happened to him during the night and no-one knew where they were going!'

'Mum…"

"And here I was, thinking that you'd inherit some of my sensibility, and at least have the _decency_ to take ten seconds to apparate in and tell me you were going somewhere, so I could grab my wand and come with you, but _no_! You and your father, two peas in a bloody pod!"

"_MUM_!"

Harry's roar echoes off the walls of the alley, sending a cat running out into the street and with an indignant hiss. Lily just looked up at Harry, chest heaving with her annoyance.

Harry let out another calming breath. "I didn't go and get the Horcrux. I haven't been anywhere but the attic. Hermione figured out who R.A.B was and where he'd put the real necklace, that's all. I swear."

It was like watching a balloon deflate. The red tinge from her cheeks evaporated and every tense muscle relaxed almost comically.

"Oh.' She said, blinking a few times.

Harry smiled. "I came over to tell you all this. Catch you up. But, it's a wonder, considering how I'm just like my father and have no consideration for you what-so-ever.'

Lily glared at his smirk. "What did Hermione find out?"

"Well, she was up in the drawing room in one of her pensive moods, so we usually just leave her be for the sake of our heads remaining attached to the rest of our bodies. But then she came downstairs screaming at me, telling me she'd figured out who this R.A.B person was."

"And? Who was it?"

"Regulus."

Lily's eyes narrowed. "Regulus? Regulus as in…Sirius _little brother_, Regulus?"

"Do you know many people with the name 'Regulus Black' who were Death Eaters?"

"No, of course not, don't be absurd. It's just…a little surreal.' She said, frowning.

Harry arched an eyebrow. "They way you say that, anyone would think you were chums with Regulus or something."

Lily looked up at him sharply. "Friends? With Regulus? I barely even knew him, Harry. The only way I ever conversed with him was when I was standing with Sirius, and Sirius and Regulus happened to be having another of their very 'subtle' public displays of 'brotherly affection'. He could have had so much potential, like most of them, but then he had to go and follow in his cousins' footsteps and…' she trailed off and shook her head. 'Never would have taken him for the sort to discover about Voldemort's most valuable secret, let alone try to undo him."

Harry leant against the wall behind him and folded his arms thoughtfully. "Maybe he was more like Sirius than anyone gave him credit for."

"Hmm, maybe.' Said Lily thoughtfully. 'But, still, that doesn't explain how he got the Horcrux, or where he even hid it for that matter."

"Well, I don't know how, but I know where.' He said. 'He hit it at Grimmauld place."

Her expression was as comical as he had imagined on his way over to tell her. Slack jawed, wide eyes, paled complexion, ready to faint…like those girls in horror movies who had just found out their seemingly normal boyfriend were actually rather demented psycho killers and realized how much of a dill they were for not catching on sooner.

"Grimmauld _PLACE_?' she cried. 'Are you kidding me?"

"No."

"_Are you kidding me_?"

"No."

"I don't _believe_ this!"

Harry smiled. "I know."

Lily paced around in a little circle as he watched her. He didn't know how he was so calm now while she was so stressed out. Perhaps he was finally settling into the information he had discovered only hours ago, or perhaps being around her had a calming affect on him.

"It's gone now, though.' He said, interrupting her frenzy.

"Gone? What do mean gone?"

"We, er…well…we kind of, sort of, maybe threw it away."

"_Threw it away_?"

"We didn't know what it was back then!"

Lily looked as though she were either about whack him across the back of the head or pass out. Harry ruffled his hair and stepped away from the wall. "Look, it's alright. I know where it is. I intend on getting it back tonight."

"And how do you intend on doing that?' she asked, her eyebrows raised. 'Certainly not _alone_."

Harry smirked. "You'll need to sit down."

-----------

Order meetings were never known for their cheery atmosphere, or happy faces, or pleasant conversation…but ever since the death of their leader, the morale had reached an all time low. Even Molly Weasley's normally infectious joy was missing in action.

Hardy anyone talked as they all sat down around the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place. They were all thankful to Harry for his permission to still be allowed to use the old house for Headquarters. It was, besides Hogwarts, the biggest place they could all convene without it attracting any attention from outside forces. As the group of adults took their usual seats, the empty seat at the head of the table beside McGonagall was not lost on everyone present.

After an almost organized minute of respectful silence, Minerva McGonagall stood up and cleared her throat. "Well, my friends, I wish I could say it was good for all of us to be back here. But, of course as you all know, not all of us _are_ back here.' She cast a quick look at the empty chair beside her, before lifting her chin defiantly. 'But, I know that were Albus here, he would no doubt give us another of his monologues on how there are more important things going on here than worrying about the passing of old men like himself."

The others laughed. "I can just imagine him saying something like that.' Said Arthur Weasley, speaking what everyone was feeling. Everyone nodded, and another thoughtful silence fell over them all.

McGonagall shook her head. "Well, we will have time to mourn later. Now, we have to be getting back to this. First order of business…'

"Who's in charge now, then?' called out Elphias Doge, his wrinkly hand raised in he air. 'Who are we to look up to? Who's heading this crazy crusade?"

"Elphias, surely this can wait.' Bristled Molly, leaning over her husband to hiss at the old man at the other end of the table. 'We have other business to be getting on with."

"Still, i's a fair question.' Said Hagrid, shrugging his shoulders. 'Who are we ter look up ter now? Dumbledore's the one who held all this together, he was."

"It is quite obvious, Rubeus,' came Kingsley's low voice half way up the table, 'that like the Headmastership at the school, the leadership role will automatically be passed down to Minerva."

"Well, tha's not 'ardly fair, is it?' came Mundungus' huff beside Bill Weasley. 'Why shoul' it automatically go to 'er?"

"Because I am not a half intoxicated old crook, Mundungus,' said McGonagall, fixing Mundungus with a look she reserved for students who were late with their homework. 'Unlike _some_ people in attendance this evening."

Bill's firm, threatening grip on Mundungus's shoulder was the only thing keeping the old man from getting his wand out and throwing a few random curses.

"Look, does it really matter who's in charge anyway?' piped up Tonks with an air of impatience. 'What if we do make Minerva leader? What then? You think you'll all be satisfied? And what if, God forbid, she dies in battle? Are we going to have this discussion again and again?"

"People need to unite under one leader.' Argued Sturgis Podmore. People normally went quiet when Sturgis spoke now adays; since coming out of Azkaban, his presence had changed from a happy one to a solemn one. 'They need to have someone to front them, to speak for them."

"And you don't think Minerva could do the job?' barked Moody. 'Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm saying nothing of the sort."

"Then what _are_ you saying, Sturgis?'

"I'm just _saying_…'

"People, that's enough!' yelled Remus, getting up out of his seat.

Everyone fell silent. Remus was glaring at them all, his expression bordering on furious. He didn't trust himself to look down at Tonks beside him, for he knew how she could get when he got angry, and he didn't need to see a cocky smirk looking up at him.

"This bickering is a waste of time. Dispute is for Death Eaters and who's the 'Most Faithful idiot' in their circles.' He said, his voice tight. 'We have more important things to discuss here than Dumbledore's successor.' When he realized everyone was going to be complacent, he looked at his own Professor across the table and gave her a small smile, trying not to blush at her look of surprise. 'Minerva…continue, please."

Minerva watched Remus sit down, stunned for a moment, before she blinked and realized everyone was waiting. "Yes, right, thank you Remus. As I was saying, first order of business is…'

But again, no-one got to find out what the first order of business actually was, for in that moment the kitchen door creaked open and in walked, after a confusing moment of hesitation, none other than their gracious host Harry Potter.

Another stunned silence fell as Harry stood there, dressed in his jeans and favorite blue shirt with a Superman logo on the front, looking very much the normal teenage any outsider would have believed him to be. His hands were in his pockets and he had a calm, almost inquisitive look on his face, as if he wasn't quite sure how he had ended up in the room with the top secret Order of the Phoenix.

"Hello all.' He said happily, shifting his weight to one foot. 'Having a good night, I trust."

"Harry…' started Mrs. Weasley, looking around for back up. Tonks look amused, Mr. Weasley looked afraid to show his feelings, Moody was just a blank as always, Minerva was as shocked as everyone else and Remus was…sniffing?

"I know, I shouldn't be here.' Said Harry, giving McGonagall an apologetic smile. 'But I just wanted to sit in. I know it goes against the regulations and all that tripe…'

"Potter, watch your language.' Muttered McGonagall totally out of habit.

Harry just grinned at her.

"Aw, what the hell, eh?' laughed Hagrid. 'I's his bleedin' house anyway, aint it? Let the boy stay, I reckon!"

"Cheers, Hagrid.' Laughed Harry.

"But…but he _can't_!' spluttered Mrs. Weasley, getting to her feet. 'He's not a member!"

Tonks clicked her tongue without any attempt of subtlety. "For Gods sake, Molly…it's Harry! He knows what's happening anyway. And I think it's high time he did sit in. I personally would rather like to hear the opinion of the Chosen One every once in a while."

There was a murmur of agreement and heads nodding. Mrs. Weasley looked very upset at the idea of Harry sitting in on an Order meeting, but she sat down without another word when Mr. Weasley tugged on her hand and pulled her back into her seat.

"Harry, seven kids later and only you could give Mum a hernia.' Laughed Bill, giving Harry an approving smile.

Harry gave Bill a grin, then looked at McGonagall. She was looking up at him (actually looking up!) over the top of her glasses with a surveying look he was used to getting just before she said those two infamous, overly used words: Potter, detention.

"Well then, Potter,' she said, the corner of her mouth twitching. 'Take a seat."

Harry smiled, gave her a courteous nod of the head and sat down at the only chair closet. The chair at the head of the table.

Had he been paying attention, Harry would have heard the collective gasp from the people seated around the table, and would have seen them all flinch. To Harry, he was sitting in the seat he sat in every morning to have his apple juice and porridge for breakfast and where he would sit late at night and read over his notes. To everyone else, however, he was filling the seat that it seemed almost destined for him to fill. But Harry wasn't to know any of this; he'd never been to an Order meeting before, so for Harry's peace of mind, everyone tried to dismiss it.

Harry looked at Remus instantly. The werewolf was looking at the spot beside Harry with narrowed eyes, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled. After a moment, he looked at Harry and smiled. Harry returned it, and he knew that Remus understood.

McGonagall cleared her throat again. "Right, third time lucky perhaps? First order of business…"

"I can't believe how small it is now.' Came a low whisper in his ear, no louder than a breath of wind. 'I remember, we used to fill up an entire room. There wasn't enough room for all of us. Hestia Jones, she used to sit with Emmeline, right down the end. Fabian and Gideon, inseparable they were, always in the back cracking jokes. Frank and Alice Longbottom, both sat right up the front and were always ready with such good ideas and unfailing compassion. And James and Sirius…'

Harry bowed his head as Lily's voice trailed away into nothing. He could feel her sadness seep into him, even through the material of the Invisibility Cloak she was crouched under. He'd hoped that by bringing her into the meeting, she would feel more involved and informed. It hadn't been his intention to upset her at all, yet looking back it seemed unavoidable and silly to realize that this wouldn't be the outcome.

"So many people…gone…' she breathed, her voice heavy.

Harry let his arm drop to his side and felt around in the air until he felt the fabric. It wasn't much, but it was all the reassurance he could risk.

"Never mind me,' she whispered, brushing him aside. 'Focus on what you're meant to be doing."

Feeling her leave for another spot in the room, Harry folded his arms over his chest and looked down the table at Mundungus Fletcher. The old, haggard wizard was leaning heavily on the table, his eyes dropping and what was unmistakably a metal flask was sitting just out of sight in his lap. Harry didn't feel anger for him anymore so much as extreme irritation. It bugged him that he'd trespassed into the house and ransacked it for valuables. It bugged him that one of the most valuable pieces in this entire puzzle was now most certainly in his possession and he didn't even know it. But the knowledge that Harry was soon going to have it back was the counter for all this irritation, and it provided him with an icy indifference…something he knew would help work the situation in his favour.

Either because he had sensed his gaze, or because he simply wanted to look, Mundungus's eyes flickered away from McGonagall's speech and down the table to Harry. The older wizard jumped a little in his seat when he realized Harry was looking directly at him with a dark expression. He looked away quickly, his face going red under his messy beard, and Harry had to try very hard not to smirk. Cleary the memory of their last meeting in Hogsmeade was still fresh in his mind.

Lily was bent down beside Bill Weasley, trying very hard to stay out of the eye line of Mad-Eye. If he so much as deliberately glanced her way, he'd spot her instantly, and it would be game over. So, knelt down behind Bill, she surveyed everyone left that she knew. Minerva McGonagall, still exactly the way Lily remembered her. Tall, graceful, stern, commanding…all the things that had always made her an amazing witch and still did. Mad-Eye Moody, still as gruff, scarred and mental as ever. Remus of course, with his calm demeanor, listening intently to every word Minerva was saying. Kingsley, taking down notes he would routinely go over later in a secure location to see if he could piece any subtext together to gain something valuable.

But that was all.

There should have been so many others there. So many more faces, ready to fight for a cause so many believed in, yet didn't have the courage of the opportunity to fight for. Lily had always considered it a privilege to be part of the Order. Her, a simple muggle-born girl from Bath who used to want to become a professional Ballet dancer and make a huge medical discovery, chosen to fight in one of the most prestigious alliances of recent times. Looking around the table now, seeing that so many of her friends' faces were not there, fanned a fire of rage within her she thought she had long ago repressed. She didn't want to be hidden under a cloak of invisibility, hidden from a world she had every right to walk upright and proud in. But she knew she couldn't just yet. A little longer, and she would get her chance. She would be patient.

Turning her thoughts away from such depressing subjects, Lily focused on the one thing that really ever truly made her heart lift – Harry. But his normally placid expression was not what she found. What she found was something she was glad she was no longer on the end of. What she found sent a chill up her spine.

Harry was looking down the table at the chap who must have been Mundungus. His bright green eyes were locked on, hard, and intense. His expression was stony and betrayed nothing but his determination and dislike. Everything about his posture had an 'I'm the Chosen One, dammit' vibe, and Lily could very much understand why Mundungus was so fidgety in his seat. His little bloodshot eyes were darting back and forth between Harry and his lap, and he looked as if the metal flask in his lap were the only thing keeping him from leaping out of his seat and running as far away as he could, as fast as he could.

Lily wasn't sure if she should be impressed or worried that Harry could do this to people.

On and on the meeting went. Harry only heard a few snippets of business. Death Eater movements here, someone should be posted there, people who might be vulnerable, how the Order was going to increase its numbers, how many numbers Voldemort could possibly have now; the rest of the meeting was lost to Harry, for all he cared about was Mundungus, and keeping his eyes fixated on him. Harry hadn't moved a muscle during the entire meeting. Time seemed to have lost all meaning to him – which is why it was such a surprise when he heard McGonagall suddenly say…

"Meeting adjourned. Thank you all for coming, and I hope to see you all next week."

Several things happened at once. While mostly everyone got up from the table, Remus remained seated, his gaze locked firmly on his hands on the table in front of him, but his attention focused on the space of air just behind him. Tonks was the first one to leap out of her seat. She literally leapt up onto the table, half-jogged over it and jumped down on the other side, right in front of Moody. He didn't have time to reprimand her or congratulate her for her unusual grace and balance, for she grabbed him by the shoulders, turned him toward the door and smartly marched him out of the room, chattering on about work forms for the next Order Meeting.

Harry rose slowly out of his seat, his eyes narrowed and still locked firmly on Mundungus. The old man looked at Harry with a certain amount of apprehension, and very quickly turned away and tried to engage Bill Weasley in conversation. Undeterred, Harry made his way around the table toward the two men at the end of the table.

"…going with them weddin' plans then, eh? Bet that future missus of yours is puttin' you through yer paces, aint she?" laughed Mundungus rather hysterically, socking Bill in the arm.

Bill laughed. "No, Fleur really isn't that bad. Very organized and obsessed, of course, but not completely mental just yet. I'm surprise you don't know all about this yourself, Dung! Oh, Harry!"

Harry gave Bill a devilish smile, knowing full well that Mundungus would be watching, and shook Bill's hand. "Bill. How's things?'

"Couldn't be better, really.' Beamed Bill, slipping his hands in his pockets and still looking every bit the rock star. 'All geared up and ready for the weekend. I'm glad you're coming, you know. Take your mind of all this hero business."

"I don't think you'll have enough Firewhiskey at that wedding to be able to do that.' Grinned Harry. He could see Mundungus out of the corner of his eye, trying to inch his way behind Bill toward the exit without Harry realizing. How that man had ever gotten the job of looking after Harry two years ago, he would never know.

Bill boomed a laugh, and Harry was glad to see it. Bill's face had been cleaned up very nicely since the very last time Harry had seen him, but there were still evident scars. Amazingly enough, Bill didn't seem too phased by them. He didn't wear his hair out to cover them up, he wore them proudly. Harry suspected Fleur had something to do with this confidence.

"Just make sure to dress rightfully, alright?' said Bill, giving Harry a look. 'Don't want my sister having a fit when she sees you."

Harry smiled and nodded, pushing aside that old knot. 'Yeah, I think I can do that. Mundungus, where are you off to then?"

Mundungus, who had made it as far as ten inches away, froze with the grace of a child being busted with their hand in a cookie jar. He laughed nervously and shrugged his shoulders, fiddling with the seams of his trench coat. 'Well, figured you two blokes would want some privacy, as it were."

"No, we're done.' Said Harry cheerily. 'I actually wanted to talk to you."

"M-Me? Oh, I would, y'see, but I got this shipment comin' and…'

"_Now_, Dung.' Said Harry. His tone allowed no argument.

Mundungus flinched again at the mixture of tension in the air and the look Harry was giving him. Bill looked between the two wizards and cleared his throat. "Well, er, I'll let you two chat then, shall I? See you later, Harry."

Bill clapped Harry on the shoulder and walked off. Mundungus watched in despair as his only form of protection left, leaving Harry and himself the only two left down in the kitchen. He looked back at Harry and smiled hastily.

Harry simply looked at him, arms folded over his chest.

"So, er…Harry! My good man!' chuckled Mundungus, tapping Harry on the arm. 'What's the what, eh?"

Harry just continued to look, his green eyes narrowed dangerously behind his round-framed glasses.

Mundungus fidgeted, his bloodshot eyes darting around in hopes of finding a quick escape. 'Listen, er, no hard feelings about them Black family heirlooms then, eh? S'not like they was really yours anyway, is it? You aint gonna miss them, you and your littl' friends went aroun' throwin' them all out only a few summer's ago, didn' you?"

"Dung,' said Harry in a low voice, closing the space between them, 'now would be an excellent time for you to stop talking."

Every step Harry took toward him, Mundungus would take one away, until finally Harry had the older man backed up against the wall, almost shaking with nervousness.

"Now, I want you think _very_ hard about your answer to my next question.' Said Harry, standing up to his full height. 'Where, _exactly_, did you steal all those things from?"

"I…I didn'…I don'…'

"_Where_, Dung?"

Mundungus swallowed back and looked at Harry with wide eyes. "Er…the attic. Yeah, tha's it. There was all these boxes up there, and I figured you wasn' gonna go through them any time soon, so I jus'…'

Harry almost lost his façade from sheer relief. He let out a slow breath and pursed his lips, waiting a moment to gain back his composure before he spoke again. "Have you sold everything?"

"Not yet."

"What _have_ you sold?"

Mundungus frowned. "Why do you wanna know, eh Harry? Interested in turnin' a profit? I'd gladly split some of it with…"

But what he would gladly split, he never got to say, because Harry grabbed Mungungus by the front of his jacket and slammed him hard up against the wall. Mundungus let out a yelp of both shock and pain and looked up at Harry with wide eyes.

"Harry…now, le's just _talk_ abou' this…'

"Don't bugger around with me, Dung. I'm not in the mood and this is _far_ too bloody important!' snarled Harry through clenched teeth.

Harry just glared at Mundungus for a long moment, before he relaxed and realized what he was doing. Taking hold of his temper again, Harry let Mundungus go and dusted off the front of his jacket. Mungungus, however, stayed pressed against the wall, trying to keep as much distance from Harry as possible.

"Dung, I want you to listen to me very, _very_ carefully.' Said Harry, puffing himself up a little. 'I don't care about the stuff you've stolen, or what you're planning on doing with it. There's only one item I'm the slightest bit interested in, so here's what I want you to do – no questions asked. I want you to take me, right now, to…wherever the hell it is you store all this junk. And I want you to tell no-one about it. Understand?"

Mundungus nodded frantically. "Yessir, I can definitely do that for yer. Definitely…right _now_, yer say?"

"Yes, right now.'

"Alrigh'… right now then…lemme just write down the address…'

"No, Dung, that's not what I mean.' Said Harry, shaking his head. 'I want _you_ to take me. Sidelong Apparition. You know how to do it, I assume?"

Mundungus's eyes widened and he seemed to slouch a little. "Er, yeah…I know 'ow."

Harry smiled. "Good, then you can take me."

"And Me.' said another voice suddenly at Harry's shoulder.

Harry looked around in surprise to see Remus standing there, his eyes locked on Mundungus but his comment very clearly directed more at Harry.

Harry shook his head. "No, Remus…'

"_And Me_.' repeated Remus more forcefully, looking at Harry.

Harry pursed his lips, wanting to snap back. He didn't want nor need anyone else tagging along, but Remus was giving him a look Harry hadn't seen in years. If Harry argued, they would be wasting time, and they'd already lost enough of that already. So instead he sighed, looked back at Mundungus and jerked his head at Remus. "Yeah…and him."

Mundungus shook his head, for the first time showing some defiance. "No way! It's bad enough takin' _you_ along, Harry, but Remus as well? He's a werewolf! I's harder to take 'em…"

"Then I'll help you.' Said Harry, his tone harsh.

The old wizard looked at the two young men in front of him, his mouth opening and closing with inaudible arguments for a moment, before he sighed in defeat and pulled his wand out.

-------------

Really, Harry knew, he shouldn't have expected anything different.

The three men apparated into a massive, old, derelict factory, the crack of their appearance echoing off the glass paneled walls. From what Harry could tell when he looked around, it looked to be an old abandoned shoe factory. There were beaten up machines all over the ground floor around them, moth eaten shoes, ripped shoe boxes and other assorted pieces of junk. There was a flutter of wings above them, and when Harry looked up he saw the last two grey birds of a flock zoom out through a hole in the high ceiling. The whole building reminded him of Mundungus; old and disheveled.

Mundungus released his grip on Harry and Remus and started forward. "Well chaps, welcome to me littl' humble abode!"

"Little, Dung, is certainly not the right adjective.' Said Remus, looking around in polite wonder.

"Well, sure, she aint exactly 'quaint'…"

"But an entire _factory_, Dung?" asked Remus, looking at him in disbelief.

Mundungus shrugged and rubbed his scratchy beard. "She's big enough for me cauldron's, and tha's all I need. No demented Molly Weasley around to bash me over the 'ead with her pots! Here, come look…"

As Mundungus went into a guided tour for Remus, Harry looked around the immediate surroundings, taking note of what else was around. There were masses of cauldrons, old model Broomsticks, busted gold scales, telescopes with cracked lenses, boxes and boxes of old, ripped spell books, crates with what most likely contained illegal potion ingredients…all things that would have sold particularly well at a flea market at the end of Knockturn Alley.

"See this, Remus? Nearly lost me left leg tryin' to get this! Basilisk tooth, very rare…'

"Enough with the sales pitch, Dung.' Said Harry, striding forward. 'Where's the stuff from Grimmauld Place?"

Mundungus sighed and looked at Harry with a patronizing look. "Harry, y'need to work on yer people skills."

"There's no time for sarcastic banter, Dung.' Said Remus, planting a hand on Harry's shoulder to stop him. 'Where are the items?"

"Wha's the big emergency, then?'

"What did I say about no questions asked?' said Harry, arching an eyebrow.

Mundungus ground his teeth as he considered the boy in front of him, before he sighed and jerked a thumb at a small mound hidden underneath an old tarp to his left. Harry shrugged Remus's hand off his shoulder and crossed over to it with three quick strides. He yanked the tarp away, revealing a collection of messily stacked wooden boxes. Without pausing, Harry barreled forward and began knocking them all over, yanking the nailed lids off and tossing them aside.

"Oi! Hang on a sec… whatcha think yer _doin_'?' cried Mundungus in outrage.

Remus grabbed him as he made to step forward. "Just leave him."

"_Leave 'im_? He's…he's trashin' all me stuff!"

"This is bigger than material possessions, Dung.' Said Remus in a low, stern voice.

Mundungus frowned, forced to watch helplessly as Harry rummaged rather violently through his crates. "Just cause he's the savior of the sodding world, don' mean he can treat me belongings like that!"

"_Your_ belongings?' asked Remus, his eyebrows raised.

"Well…possession's seventh eights of the law or somethin', aint it?"

Remus smiled and shook his head.

Harry threw aside another silver goblet carelessly, ignoring the clunk it made as it hit the stone floor as he pulled out a candelabrum, two more goblets, several spoons and a large breakfast tray. All of them were insignificant to him. Just useless pieces of tin that Mundungus could sell to little kids for money for crack for all he cared. He just needed to find it.

He shoved the now empty box aside and went for the next one…when he stopped as a sudden thought came to him. Why was he doing it like this? He had his wand, he was a wizard, he knew how to do a Summoning Spell…

Harry sighed and got to his feet. Pulling his wand out, he hesitated, pulling together all his concentration and hoping against all reasonable doubt that something was about to fly into his hand. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Please, God…

"_Accio Horcrux_."

It seemed that an eternity could pass in a second. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he waited, feeling nothing but air in his outstretched hand. The palm of his hand tingled in anticipation and hope, waiting for so long…

And then, he felt something hit his palm.

Harry looked down at the small, silver locket in his hand. There it sat, the pattern of a snake facing upward with the chain dangling over the side of his palm, looking perfectly innocent. The blood went rushing through his ears as he closed his fingers around the cool little pendant, just to feel it against his skin. Just to know that it was real, and it existed, and he was actually holding it in his hand. He wanted to do several things at once; cry, laugh, run around screaming, collapse with relief…but he just stood there, not even stepping aside as Mundungus pushed past him to get to the mess, muttering angrily to himself.

Remus crossed over to Harry, looking at the chain protruding from his hand. "That's it, isn't it?"

Harry nodded, unable to find his voice.

"Of all the people to end up with it, I never…' he trailed off, looking over Harry's shoulder at the old wizard crouched on the ground, salvaging his loot.

Harry cleared his throat and laughed croakily. "It's always the people you least expect."

Remus smiled. "Apparently."

"So, what do we do now?"

"You didn't even have a plan for what to do next?" laughed Remus.

Harry shook his head. "No, I assumed _you_ did. You know, with wanting to come and all."

"No, I thought you had this all worked out yourself."

"Not really.' Admitted Harry bashfully. 'I was just so focused on actually _getting_ it, I didn't think about what would happen when or even if I actually did. I was just on auto, you know?"

"Yes, I think I know.' Grinned Remus.

Harry looked down at his hand, feeling the weight of the necklace in his hand. It was so heavy. "Then why did you come if not to help me with what to do next?"

"Well, honestly? To make sure you didn't pummel Dung for not giving you what you wanted.' Admitted Remus. 'You needed a cool head here."

"I have a cool head!"

Remus gave him a look.

Harry looked back down at his hand. "Thank you."

Remus smiled and cleared his throat. "We have to get it back to the house, Harry."

Harry nodded and looked up at Remus. "I don't know how to destroy it. Dumbledore…he never said…'

"Don't worry; I'll take care of it."

Harry smiled and held it out for Remus to take, but Remus winced and took a step back, expression one of pain. "Maybe…maybe you'd better hold onto it for a while."

"What? But you just said…"

"I know what I just said."

"What's the matter?"

Remus backed up again as Harry held it up for him to take. "Its _silver_, Harry."

Harry frowned, confused for a moment. But then his eyes widened in realization. "Oh…Remus…hell, I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright."

"Why didn't you say anything?" asked Harry irritably, shoving the necklace in his pocket.

Remus shrugged. "I thought you would have remembered something like that."

Harry gave him a look. "Sorry, wrong student.'

Remus grinned and went to say something, when the volume of Mundungus's profanities suddenly grew louder.

"…little bugger, comin' in and stuffin' up all me organization. Dammit, Harry, if you weren' who you were…'

"Hey, Dung?' called Harry.

Mundungus looked over his shoulder at Harry. "Wha'?"

Harry grinned. "No hard feelings, right?"

Mundungus sighed, shook his head and then went back to tidying up.

Remus chuckled and clapped Harry on the back. "Come on, let's get back. I don't dare keep you away from your mother any more than necessary."

* * *

A/N – one down, three to go! Big thanks to Ashlee for helping me with this chapter! Girl, you're my total saviour!

Please review!


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17!

* * *

"Harry, are you alright? You look kind of…' 

"Peaky?"

"Not quite the word I was _looking_ for, thank you Ron, but yes."

Harry smiled, took his glasses off and tossed them onto the table with a sigh. He rubbed his eyes and exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of his friends concerned stares on him. "Why must you both look at me as if I'm going to break into a million little pieces at any moment?"

"So we know when to run and get the super-glue.' Said Hermione, nudging his knee under table with her own.

"Maybe he's just stricken with guilt." Said Ron to Hermione across the table, wriggling his eyebrows.

Hermione grinned, but Harry just looked at him in confusion. "Guilt? Why would I be stricken with guilt?"

Ron threw him a look of mock indignation. "For not taking us with you to get the Horcrux."

Harry blinked and looked at both Hermione and Ron in turn on either side of him from his position at the head of the table. "But…but I'm not guilty about that."

"Well you bloody well should be.' Said Ron, raising his chin in the air in an attempt to look highly insulted. 'Here we are, ever faithful sidekicks, and the _hero_ doesn't even see fit to take them along on the recovery mission of the century."

"We're certainly not getting paid enough for this kind of treatment.' Said Hermione, shaking her head.

"We're just _accessories_ to you, _aren't we_?' cried Ron hysterically, covering his face and making sobbing noises. 'You're always going away on business, leaving us here to rot…'

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh please, like I had the time to be coming up and getting you, and then having to wait for Hermione to work out every detail of what we were going to do, and then to have _you_ all impatient and snapping at her for taking forever, and then having the two of you getting into another of your marital spats…'

"We don't have marital spats.' Muttered Hermione, blushing.

"No, what you two have is Hiroshima all over again.' Said Harry, giving her a look. 'I left right after the Order meeting anyway, so it's not like I could wait to comeover to you."

"Hey, yeah, how was the meeting anyway?' asked Ron, looking suddenly very interested.

Harry shrugged and put his glasses back on. "Yeah, it was alright. What I heard of it was, anyway."

Hermione looked around at him sharply. "What you heard of it? What's that mean to mean?"

Harry blinked and leant back a little at the look she was giving him. Ron cleared his throat and propped a large book up to hide behind, leaving his red hair visible over the top. "Well, er…'

"Weren't you paying _any_ attention to what they were discussing?"

"I was a little. I was trying to watch Dung!' said Harry defensively.

Ron poked his head over the top of the book and smiled at Hermione opposite him. "Yeah, he was trying to be sinister and intimidating. Isn't that right, Harry?"

"That's exactly right, yes, thank you Ron. I was trying to be intimidating, and it required a lot of attention.' Said Harry slowly. 'Not all of us are talented in the art of Multi-tasking like you, Hermione."

"Oh shut it, both of you.' She snapped, glaring at Harry and Ron in turn. 'Sitting in on an Order meeting when you aren't even a member is a very prestigious honor, Harry, and I'm surprised you didn't take advantage of the situation more. The information discussed could have been very vital for you to work out how to…'

"Harry, do you hear an annoying buzzing?' sang Ron, looking into space thoughtfully. 'It sounds familiar, like that noise we hear around exam time."

Hermione glared at him. Ron's smile vanished and he hid his face behind the book again.

"Hermione, really, don't worry so much.' Said Harry, tapping her arm comfortingly. 'It's not like I didn't listen at all, because I did. It just wasn't the main focus of my attention which, considering the circumstances, I would have thought you'd understand."

"I do. But honestly, Harry…

"Just drop it, woman, okay?' said Harry, exasperated. 'I know it's a struggle for you, but just let it go."

Hermione pursed her lips into a thin line and looked like she very much wanted to say something. She quickly adverted her eyes over to Ron, who had come back out from behind his book sensing it was now safe. He frowned and shook his head, and amazingly Hermione sighed and turned back to face the table properly.

Harry, who had noticed this entire exchange, cleared his throat. "Besides, it's all behind us now anyway. We got the Horcrux, no-one died or got hurt…I'd say it was a pretty well executed plan."

"It wasn't a plan at all.' Said Hermione, pulling another book toward her. 'It was impulsive and reckless."

"Yeah, you're right.' Said Ron, nodding in agreement. 'We were put into Gryffindor because we're safe, cautious and analytic, weren't we?"

"You know, Ron, if my wand weren't up the other end of the table at the moment, I think you'd find yourself with an extra pair of feet suddenly growing out of your forehead.' Said Hermione casually, reading over the blurb of her book.

Harry rolled his eyes. He sometimes wondered what the two of them would be like, sitting at their own dining table as married couple with two kids, trying to get them to eat their vegetables while at the same time arguing with one another in that falsely polite way they were doing now about who wasn't parenting the children right, or who was being too strict. He didn't know whether to me amused or disturbed by the image.

"Still, it seems all a little anti-climactic, doesn't it?' said Ron.

Hermione looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "Would you have preferred there to be oodles of violence and people dropping dead all over the place?"

Ron shrugged. "Well, no…but going to some old factory and looking through a bunch of boxes? Not exactly a tale we'll be telling our grandkids about to give them the heebie-jeebies before they go to bed, now is it?"

"Shall I hide the Horcrux somewhere else? Like at the bottom of a tank full of sharks, Piranha and leeches and _then_ go down for it?' offered Harry. '_Blindfolded_?"

"Armed with nothing but a cocktail sword?' put in Hermione.

Ron laughed. "Don't be so outrageous! Where would Harry get a cocktail sword at _this_ time of the day?"

Hermione sighed. "What we have to work on now is gathering up the others as quickly as we can. We got extremely lucky with the locket…"

"Lucky?' said Harry, frowning.

Hermione's eyes widened as she realized what she just said. "Oh, no, Harry…I didn't mean it like that! That thing with…with you and Dumbledore…'

"It's alright,' said Harry, giving her a small smile, 'just forget it."

"We don't even know where the other Hocruxes might be!' said Ron, letting his hands flop on the table. 'They could be any_where_ or any_thing_. Voldemort could have transfigured them into any object he wanted, or buried it deep in the ground, or sent it rocketing off into space…'

"No, no, Dumbledore said he wouldn't do that.' Said Harry, holding up his hands to stop Ron's nervous babble. 'He takes too much pride in what they were originally to transfigure them into something meaningless. No, they'll still look the same. Dumbledore assured me of that."

"And he hides them in places of meaning?' asked Ron in clarification. 'Is that what Dumbledore said too?"

Harry nodded. "Every place he found a Horcrux, it was in a place Voldemort had been before. Some place of significance to him. His mother's old house, the cave where he went as a boy, the school…"

"Well, that makes it muchsimpler then, doesn't it?' said Hermione with a satisfied grin. 'Makes our job that much easier. Huh, evil genius my _boot_. Why hide things of such value in places of significance? In an obvious pattern? How that man _ever_ became Head Boy with such a pathetic intellect…"

Ron and Harry exchanged a smile, letting Hermione go into a haughty ramble.

"I bet we could find all this stuff out just by checking out his history.' Said Ron, pushing the books away. 'Course, with Dumbledore gone, no-one really knows much about his history, do they?"

"There has to be someone still around.' Said Harry, frowning.

"If there's information, I'll find it.' Said Hermione determindly. Neither boy doubted her vow in the slightest.

Harry rubbed his jaw and looked up at the ceiling as another loud boom came from the second above them. At first, the odd loud bang or explosion from above their heads had cause the three of them to jump in surprise, but now they didn't even flinch, just continued to look over the notes laid out on the kitchen table. When he had arrived home from the factory with Remus, Harry had been torn between going upstairs with him and the Horcrux, or going downstairs with Ron and Hermione and talking over their next move. But, as Harry had begun to make his way up the stairs behind Remus, Hermione and Ron had come down the hall, arguing about Death Eaters or lunch meat or whatever it was the fought about lately, and Harry had instantly changed his mind.

"I think we should focus on the cup next.' Said Hermione. 'After all, it's the only Horcrux left that we actually _know_ what it is."

"Still haven't worked out the other two, then?' asked Harry.

Ron shook his head. "No, but we will. It shouldn't be too hard. All we have to do is research the Founder's backgrounds."

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "Enough about Horcurxes. We need to talk about something else."

"Cottage cheese?' offered Ron, looking hopeful.

"Is_ everything_ with you about food?' asked Hermione, looking like she very much wanted to slam her head against a wall.

Ron smiled and shrugged.

"I have a question.' Said Harry. 'Where are you planning on getting more information from? These are pretty much all the books Remus had that would be helpful, and I don't think Flourish and Blotts is going to carry any of the stuff we need."

Hermione smiled. "Actually, I had thought about that…and I'm going to use the library at Hogwarts."

"Oh, yeah, I didn't think of that!' beamed Harry. 'Smashing idea."

"Yeah, she seems to have a lot of those.' Said Ron, giving Hermione a look out of the corner of his eye. 'Too bad we never listen to them, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is too bad.' Muttered Hermione, giving Ron a playful glare.

"So, I guess this means they're keeping the school open then?' asked Harry, not sure if he should feel happy or sad about this.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, according to McGonagall anyway. She's taking up Dumbledore's old seat."

"I'm glad.' Said Harry, nodding. 'Strange though, she didn't mention it to me at all during the meeting."

"Maybe she did and you just were too busy being sinister and intimidating.' Said Hermione, giving Harry a smirk.

Harry smiled at her.

"Personally, I'm glad they're keeping it open.' Said Ron, scribbling a little drawing of a snitch on his blank piece of parchment.

"Yeah, you guys will be able to use the library any time you want that way.' Said Harry. He felt another pang of sadness when he thought about Hogwarts and how he would not be returning, but pushed it away before either of them noticed. 'Maybe McGonagall will even let you have special access to the Restricted Section. Or time off from classes. But, I suppose you could just owl me books or something, that way I could read them and still get the information we need and you guys wouldn't fall behind."

A long silence followed this, and Harry was surprised to see Hermione and Ron looking at him as if he'd suddenly gone bald. They were just looking at him, exchanging looks with one another every few seconds as if sharing some secret, and then looking back around at him again.

"What?' laughed Harry finally.

"Mate…' said Ron, exchanging another look with Hermione. '…we're not _going_ back to Hogwarts."

Harry blinked in surprise. "You…you're not?"

"No, of course we aren't!' chuckled Hermione.

"But…but you just said…' stuttered Harry, completely at a loss.

"We told you back in June that we're with you every step of the way.' Said Ron. 'Didn't you think we were serious?"

"Well…no, actually I didn't.' Laughed Harry, feeling very stupid.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, I love you, but sometimes you really can be inexplicably daft."

Harry laughed again, feeling very much in the spotlight all of a sudden. When they had come to him after the funeral and announced they were going to stand with him, he had honestly thought it was just a metaphor. That they were going to stick by him, even thought they were going back to Hogwarts to finish school when he wasn't. Or that maybe they weren't even in their right mind anyway, considering the emotional ordeal they had just been through. But here they were now, sitting with him at the dining table of Grimmauld Place, looking at him with as much sincerity as they had shown the day they had first said it.

He cleared his throat, feeling another warm knot in his chest. "Well…um…'

"You don't have to say anything.' Laughed Ron, kicking his feet up on the table. 'We made our choice and we're intending to stick to it. Like glue. Isn't that right, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded. "Like glue."

Harry snorted. "So, what…you're going to go to Hogwarts every day just to use the library?"

"Tragic, isn't it?' muttered Ron, rolling his eyes. 'I'm going to be in there more on the next few weeks than I ever was during my seven years of school."

"It'll do you the world of good.' Huffed Hermione, giving Ron a look.

"How's that?' he asked, looking incredulous. 'Hanging around all them scungy old books al the time, breathing in all that dust…think of my hay-fever!"

"You don't _have_ hay-fever!'

Ron adverted his eyes. "Someday I might."

"So, anyway,' called Harry loudly, 'what did McGonagall say to you, Hermione?"

"She said that, due to the circumstances, that we'd be able to use the library or any other facilities within the castle whenever we wanted.' Said Hermione with a small smile. 'Technically we're still students anyway, until we announce properly that we no-longer wish to continue our educational studies."

"Tell him what else she said!' said Ron excitedly, sitting up straight.

"Ron, don't." hissed Hermione, throwing him a look.

"What? What is it?' asked Harry, looking at both of them quickly. 'What did I miss? What did she say?"

"Something very cool that Miss Modest over here doesn't want to talk about.' Grinned Ron, jerking a thumb at Hermione.

Hermione glared at him in actual embarrassment, the starts of a red-raw blush creeping up her cheeks. "Ron, I told you that in _confidence_…'

"Either you tell him or I will."

"Would someone just _tell_ me? Please?' cried Harry impatiently.

Ron folded his arms over his chest, throwing a satisfied grin at a very embarrassed looking Hermione. "McGonagall said that she was sad to hear Hermione wasn't coming back to school this year, not just because she was loosing one of her best and brightest students, but because now it meant that she would have to find a new Head Girl."

Harry's eyes widened and he looked at Hermione. She had her face in her hands, her hair curtaining her face behind bushy brunette locks, but Harry could tell she was absolutely appalled by the way her shoulders were hunched. "Hermione, why are you being so modest? That's an incredible thing to be proud of!"

"Yes, it would have been,' said Hermione, lifting her head and sighing, 'had I actually gotten the chance to be Head Girl."

"I don't know why you're being so humble, quite frankly.' Said Ron lazily. 'It's not like we didn't know you weren't going to be offered the job anyway."

Harry watched as Hermione frowned as if in pain, her eyebrows knotting in hidden anguish. Now he felt guilt. Guilt for being partly responsible for taking this opportunity away from her. "Hermione, listen, if you want to go back to school…'

"No, of course I don't.' she said, shaking her head insistently. 'School doesn't matter any more."

Ron and Harry's mouths dropped open.

Hermione sighed. "Well, yes, it _matters_…but there are more important things going on here at the moment besides school."

Ron and Harry just continued to stare.

"Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?' asked Ron, his eyes wide.

"What?' laughed Hermione.

"I didn't think there was _anything_ more important than school.' Said Harry, looking at Hermione in amazement.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, shockingly enough, there is. Not that I might have thought so when I was…oh, _eleven_…but people's ideas can change. Besides, I don't want to go back to school without either one of you.'

Harry smiled, but Ron had gone completely red and looked as if he wanted to say something back, but was holding himself together only by the tiniest fragments of self dignity.

"Now, if you two are both done staring at me like idiots,' she grinned, 'I think I'll go make myself a sandwich. Would either of you like one?"

Harry shook his head, but Ron sat up a little straighter. "Yeah, I'll have one. But with ham, and not corn beef."

"Yes, alright.' Said Hermione, getting up.

"Oh, and some mustard. And those little bits of grass!"

"Yes, Ron."

"And some cheese! But not that stuff you get in the plastic! And some lettuce, and cucumber, and beetroot as well…"

"_Alright_, Ron!"

Harry laughed as Hermione left the room, letting the kitchen door swing shut behind her. Ron, who had half risen out of his seat as he yelled out his demands, flopped back down with a satisfied sigh.

Unable to hide his grin, Harry changed the subject before he fell slave to the temptation to tease Ron mercilessly. "You having any qualms about leaving school?"

"Nah. I didn't really do much while I was there anyway, did I? Just took up space, really."

"That's not true."

Ron gave him a look.

"Well, it's not _entirely_ true."

Another loud explosion from upstairs drowned out Ron's laughter, rattling the glass panels of the liquor cabinet and the glasses in the kitchen. Harry looked up at the ceiling again with curiosity, wondering for the five hundredth time that afternoon what the hell was going on up there.

"Just go up there already.' Said Ron. Harry looked back down to see Ron had been watching him. 'We're not really doing much down here, and if Fred and George have taught me anything, it's that making things explode is a lot of fun."

Harry smiled and looked around. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Like I care.' Chuckled Ron, shrugging his shoulders. 'Go on, get up there. Embrace your inner Pyromaniac."

Harry laughed and nodded. He got up and made his way out of the kitchen, shoving Ron playfully as he passed. As Harry made his way out into the hallway an up the flight of stairs, he now could hear not only the usual bang, but also the odd cheer or shouted profanity. While he didn't know exactly which room Remus had chosen to deal with the Horcrux in, it didn't take Harry long to find out. All he had to do was follow the noise and the trail of smoke billowing out from under the third door on the left. He cautiously made his way up to the door, hesitated as there was another loud boom, and then knocked.

"Urgh…too much _smoke_…come in!" came a familiar female voice.

Harry opened the door, pushing it inward and just about joked on the sheer amount of smoke he inhaled. Coughing and spluttering he waved the smoke away from his face and entered the room properly, closing the door behind him. As he adjusted to the light of the room, he blinked in surprise as he finally took in the scene before him.

All the furniture in the drawing room had been pushed up against the wall, leaving the entire floor bare except for one little necklace lying in the middle with various scorch marks, the odd dwindling flame and dents in the floor boards around it. But the even more extraordinary thing about the scene was the two large desks lying on their side just in front of him with Remus and Lily crouched behind them, wands in their hand with a little smoking cauldron between them.

"What the hell are you two _doing_?' spluttered Harry, his laugh coming out as a wheezy cough.

Lily looked around at Harry and beamed. "Ah, Harry! Just in time."

"We're getting into the demolition business.' Murmured Remus, peering over the top of the desk at the necklace as if it were going to explode at any moment.

"If we can ever successfully destroy the bloody thing, that is.' Muttered Lily irritably, adding ingredients to the cauldron. 'It's harder to break than a cocaine addiction."

"Not that she would know what a cocaine addiction feels like.' Added Remus, giving Lily a smirk out of the corner of his eye.

Lily laughed, gave him a playful shove and went back to her potion.

Harry shook his head, quite unable to form words for his honest opinion of the situation. "Why on earth are you two hiding behind those desks?"

"Well, we don't exactly know what its going to do when we break it.' Said Remus looking up at Harry. 'I honestly don't think that its going to explode or anything like _someone_ is anxiously thinking…'

"I'm just being cautious, Remus.' Said Lily, filling a little vial full of red liquid from the cauldron. 'That's someone's soul in there; and an evil soul at that. If you were to imagine Voldemort's soul exploding, you certainly wouldn't imagine it to explode into little butterflies, now would you?"

"Yes, but sparks of painful impending doom?' asked Remus, looking at Lily in doubt.

Lily shrugged and corked the vial. "It's not a crime to be prepared. Now here, try this one."

Several things happened at once. Lily moved the cauldron and potion ingredients away from Remus as he rose a little. She grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him down beside her, moving around so they could both peek over the top of the desk to see the effects to her potion. Remus rolled the glass vial in-between his fingers in a moment of hesitation, before he threw it and quickly ducked down behind the desk. There was only a split second of baited silence before…

_BANG!_

Harry winced and resisted the urge to cover his ears from the sheer volume of the explosion. The three of them coughed and gagged as smoke filled the room again.

"How'd…_ack_…how'd that one go?' coughed Lily, sitting up properly.

Remus, coughing into his hand, sat up and peered over the desk. Harry did the same, and after a moment the smoke cleared, revealing the necklace still on the floor completely untouched – which was more than Harry could say for the floor around it.

"No go,' sighed Remus in disappointment, 'Sorry, Lily."

"Bugger.' She muttered, chewing on the inside of her lip. 'That was one of the most powerful potions I knew that wouldn't blow the house up."

Harry swallowed and looked at her in shock. "You could _do_ that?"

Lily smiled at him. "If I really wanted to." She blew air out through her lips and looked into space with a pensive expression. 'Maybe we should just forget the spells and potions and just hit the bastard with a good old fashioned sledgehammer."

Remus shook his head. "Lily, don't be so silly. We cannot destroy a Horcrux with a sledgehammer!"

"Why on earth not?"

"Because it's not strong enough. How about we get a blow torch and heat it up?' he offered, arching an eyebrow.

Lily nodded, impressed. "Yeah, torch the sucker. Or maybe even a chainsaw! Hack right through the middle of it!"

"Or a guillotine?"

"An angle grinder?"

"Liquid nitrogen?"

Harry just looked at them with amazement as they burst into laughter. "You two have been inhaling far too much smoke."

"Oh, Harry, don't be so serious.' Giggled Lily, giving him a side-on hug.

"I think we should go back to spells.' Said Remus, getting back to the point. 'All this smoke is going to kill us if we keep this up. And we're running out of potion ingredients. There's a broader range of jinxes we can use."

"Yeah, I think you're right.' Said Lily. 'We haven't tried Cutting hexes, or Jelly jinxes, or Weakening spells…' she nodded and waved dismissively at Remus. 'You try that for a minute. I'll clean up all these ingredients so they don't mix and explode."

Harry stepped aside to let Remus by as Lily bent down to clean up. Harry sat down beside her and began handing her random jars.

"Damn Horcruxes…thanks, honey…why are they so impossible to destroy?" she grumbled, staking the jars in an old box.

"I don't expect it would be an easy thing to do.' Said Harry. 'Even Dumbledore could barely do it. His hand was never the same after he cracked that ring."

Lily smiled at him. "Now you understand why I wanted some protection.' She said, gesturing to the desks. There was a flash of light and another small CRACK from the other side of the desks, but the two Potter's paid it no mind and just let Remus get on with what he was doing. 'I didn't think it would look too attractive if we were to have out noses singed off our faces."

Harry snorted, handing her a jar of Mugwart. "Oh, I don't know…Voldemort's setting a definite trend with that whole snake-nose thing he's got going on."

After a few more minutes of tidying up and random explosions, it finally went quiet in the room for the first time in three hours. Remus came over and leant on the desks with an exhausted sigh just as Lily put the lid on the box.

"I don't think I've got enough power to do it on my own.' Said Remus, looking highly insulted. He looked at Lily. 'You want to have a crack at it together? You can pull a punch when you really want to."

Lily nodded and she and Harry stood up again. "Alright, but we'll have to think about what spells we're using first. I don't want be using a hex when you're using something else, and then we end up turning each other into toads by mistake."

"Can I help?' asked Harry, pulling his wand out.

Remus nodded as Lily made her way over to the necklace. "Of course. Just be careful and _don't_ use non-verbal spells. I want you saying them."

"I don't need a lecture, Remus.' Said Harry, frowning. 'I know how to do non-verbal…'

"But you're only just getting the hang of them.' Reasoned Remus. 'Even I'm going to be using verbal spells."

"Harry, Remus is right.' Said Lily, giving her son a look.

Harry rolled his eyes and conceded, wondering how it was the Chosen One still had to be lectured.

* * *

A/N – to clear up confusion…when I said 'Three more to go', I meant Horcruxes, not chapters! There's a LOT more chapters to come! 

Please review!


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18!

* * *

"No, Tonks, don't move that coffee table! Mum? Mum, where are you? What's that, Kingsley? No, I don't have time to be looking at that. _Mum_? Moody, back off, will you? I don't want to do anymore training today. _MUM_? Urgh, Remus, will you _move_?"

The prowling Werewolf, who had just thumped into the back of Harry's knees on his mad dash toward the room Tonks had just disappeared into, looking up at Harry's glare and growled.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Hi, Lassie, who do you think you're growling at?"

Remus's yellow eyes narrowed and he let out a defiant snort.

"I'm sorry, would you like a tissue?' said Harry sarcastically, putting his hands on his hips. 'Shouldn't you be down in the basement? I thought you said you were going to be down there until dawn.'

Remus shook his head, giving his tail a little flick.

Harry frowned. "You know, just because it's that time of the month for you, doesn't mean you can get crabby at all of us. It's not _my_ fault, you know. Ow! You _bit_ me!'

Remus rolled his eyes, using body language to communicate what he really wanted to say he thought of Harry's reaction to a simple nip on the shin.

Harry sighed, but whirled around as the sound of McGonagall bickering on about something approached at a rather alarming rate. She was marching toward him, shoving her way past people and muttering angrily to herself.

'…all these people, and its not even an official meet, for Merlin's sake! How any sort of Order like this will win a war, I'll never know. We can't even win the battle against disorganization! Oh, Potter, why are you standing in the middle of the hallway like a stupefied Bowtruckle? People are trying to move!"

"Yeah, so I noticed.' Said Harry, looking around the hallway.

Harry wasn't entirely sure when everyone from the Order (and probably some people that weren't) had decided they were all going to come over. Or ever why, for that matter. All he knew was that one minute he was finally telling the few Order Members that had come to see him about Lily (after Moody had jinxed her, tied both her and Harry up and interrogated them for a good half an hour before finally becoming convinced), and then the next it seemed like half of London's Underground were using his hallway as a subway route. At the time, he hadn't really minded too much, but now it was just utter chaos. Kingsley kept badgering him, trying to get Harry to look at photos of potential Death Eaters to see if he recognized anyone from his many encounters. Tonks was slipping in and out of room after room, carrying with her Foe Glasses, Sneakascopes, large boxes of parchment and hundreds of other little trinkets, all at the same time bashing into most and all of the furniture she walked past. Moody was walking around with a frenzied gleam in his magical eye, barking random orders at any person who walked past. And McGonagall, while Harry felt she should be rather used to it having Fred and George in her house for seven years, was running around everywhere like a headless chicken, trying to restore some order.

"What is it everyone doing, exactly? And why did you all feel the need to complete it at my house?' demanded Harry.

McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, apparently the Ministry's become far too crowded as of late, and I certainly couldn't be hosting all this hullabaloo at Hogwarts, could I? Not when I've got an entire curriculum to be setting up!"

"Yeah, but _here_?' groaned Harry, wincing as Remus gave the back of his shin another head butt and trotted off through the maze of people to look for Tonks. 'There isn't exactly a lot of room for you all to be moving around. Someone might get…_OW_! Charlie that was my foot!"

Charlie Weasley, who had just run between McGonagall and Harry, slowed to a jog, looked back over his shoulder and Harry and waved in impatient apology. 'Sorry, Harry…I'll pay for that!"

Harry sighed and rubbed his toes with the heel of his other foot. "Listen, Professor, have you seen my mother anywhere?"

McGonagall's expression went blank as another person pushed through between them, her eyes widening. "Y-Your _mother_?"

"Yeah, my mother. You know, about yey high, long red hair, meant to be dead…'

"I can't believe you can joke about something like this, Potter.' Said McGonagall, her lips pursed in a repressed grin. 'You kept something so…so amazing from us! Not just personally, but magically as well!"

"Well, judging from Moody's reaction, you can probably tell why I was so hesitant to tell you all.' Said Harry, raising his eyebrows. 'Regardless of her being one of your favorite students."

McGonagall frowned. "Now, you know I don't have favorites. Oh, Elphias, no, do _not_ be taking those potion ingredients anywhere near a cauldron! Excuse me, Harry wont you?"

Harry blew air out through his lips as he watched his old Head of House run off after the aged wizard, whacking him in the head with her wand as she told him off about his potion ingredients.

Figuring he wouldn't find her amongst all the ruckus, he fought his wound his way around a few more passing wizards and witches and headed up the stairs. His first instinct was to go look in her room, and since his instincts rarely let him down, he headed across the landing and right toward her room at the end of the hall.

Reaching the door, he knocked, allowed a courteous pause and then opened the door inward. Sticking his head in, he saw her pacing the room, her hair tied up away from her face and a disturbingly fierce look on her face as she paced back and forth, her eyes scanning a large book in her hands.

"Mum? What're you doing?"

"Shh!' she hissed, waving a hand at him impatiently without taking her eyes off the book. 'Don't talk, you're distracting me."

"From what? Walking a trench into the floor?"

"Go away, will you? Just for a few minutes!' she hissed, flicking her wand at the door and shutting it firmly in his face.

Harry flinched back and blinked stupidly in surprise. He frowned, leant his ear against the door and listened, hearing only the repetitive patter of her footfalls as she paced.

"Harry?"

He whirled around to find Hermione walking up the hallway toward him, her arms full of books and her eyebrows knotted in curiosity. "Oh, Hermione."

"What are you doing?"

Harry pointed at the door like child dobbing on another child for pushing them in the playground. 'She slammed the door on me!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows and looked at the door. "Well, what did you say to her?"

"I didn't say anything! Just popped my head in to say hello."

"Was she doing anything?"

"She was reading."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "Reading?"

"Yeah, you know… that thing you do with books. I'm surprised you, of all people, didn't know that's what it was called."

"She wouldn't have told you to go away if there wasn't a reason.' Said Hermione calmly, ignoring his sarcasm. 'Perhaps she just wants to be left alone. I know I generally do when I'm reading."

Harry blew air out through his lips and glanced back at the door. "Yeah, maybe. Where are you going with all those books?"

"Oh, these?' asked Hermione, looking down at the load in her arms. 'I was going to go downstairs and talk with Bill. See if we can't work some things out about breaking curses for the next Horcrux. You know, save the trouble Remus and Lily went through trying to destroy it."

"You've told Bill about the Horcruxes?' asked Harry quickly.

"Of course I haven't. I'm just going to pick his brain a little, that's all.' She said innocently. 'A few well-asked hypothetical questions should do the trick I think. Bill's smart; he wasn't Head Boy for no reason, but he wont suspect anything about Horcruxes."

"Maybe you should get him to come upstairs. It's a bit mental down there at the moment.' Said Harry, rubbing his arm where he'd been bumped into more times than he could count.

Hermione smiled at him. "Feeling a tad like a pinball, are you?"

Harry gave her a wary smile. "Don't make fun of me."

"I would never.' She giggled, moving off again.

Harry watched her go for a moment, before coming back to the situation at hand. "Well…what should I do about this then?' he called, jerking his head toward the door.

"It's to your discretion, Harry. See you downstairs.' She called happily, waving over her shoulder.

He watched her go feeling rather put out. That was probably the most useless bit of helpful advice she'd ever given him.

Looking back around at the door, Harry only had a second of indecision, before he crossed back over to it, gave another gentle knock and entered the room again, this time crossing the threshold and shutting the door behind him so she couldn't shut him out again.

Harry leant against the door as he watched her pace as furiously as she had been only minutes ago. "Can I stand here? Or are you going to throw me out again?"

"I won't if you be quiet.' She muttered, turning the page. 'But, knowing you as well as I do, that's not likely to happen for very long."

"Aw, are you still sore because Moody jinxed you?"

"Yes, for some strange reason I think I may be just a tad!' she growled her eyes narrowed. 'You know, just once I'd like someone to _smile_ when I come out to them in a very non-homosexual kind of way. Why do I always have to be hexed? Or thrown against a wall? Or knocked unconscious? Why can't anyone ever seem _happy_ to see me? Is a hug too mush to ask for?"

Harry nodded. "Apparently."

She huffed again and continued on with her book.

"What's that you're reading anyway?" he asked, trying to look at the title as she passed.

Lily sighed and slowed her pacing. She didn't answer him, simply lifted the book up as she passed, exposing the title '_Reincarnation; Fact or Legend?_' on the cover in large, blue writing.

Harry arched his eyebrows. "You want to reincarnate someone?"

"No,' she said slowly, as if perceiving him to be particularly slow, 'I want to know why _I_ was reincarnated."

"But you weren't."

"How do we know that?"

"Because if you had been, wouldn't you be some sort of animal or something?' he asked, taking a step toward her. 'You wouldn't be the same person."

"I don't know, Harry!' she cried, whirling on him. 'God, don't you see? I don't _know_! I don't anything about why I'm here, or even bloody how, and it's frustrating to no end! And what's worse than not knowing, is that there seems to be no way of finding out! There are so many options, yet no answers."

Harry watched, feeling very small and helpless as she flopped down on the end of her bed and let the book fall from her hands to the floor. She took slow, deep breaths and looked into space for a long moment, before resting her elbows on her knees and putting her face in her hands.

He didn't know how to comfort her. It's not like he'd ever been in her situation before, and he was willing to bet no-one had. Anything he said would be for something he'd never experienced. It was hard enough trying to comfort her as a son to a mother with her normal motherly issues, let alone something like this. He didn't really know what he could do. He kept his mouth shut, knowing that anything if he tried to say something it would come out sounding lame or corny. He didn't know if she would appreciate physical comfort or shrug him off. It was frustrating, not even knowing how to help, and it was times like this that those last few shreds of awkwardness would shine through, and make them both realize that they still had a lot of holes to fill in their ever growing relationship.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to sooth in a round-about sort of way. "I thought you weren't concerned about all this stuff anymore."

She heaved a sigh and looked up. "Neither did I. But, Moody asking me all those questions today got me asking myself the same thing. 'Where did I come from? How did I get here? Why am I here?'. For a while I was rather content with not knowing, but now…'

Lily trailed off and stood up, looking a little less anxious than she had just a few minutes ago. She began pacing once more, but it wasn't her intense, harassed pace, it was a slower, calmer pace she usually did when he was trying to get on a train of thought. Moving seemed to help when she was trying to riddle something out.

Harry smiled as he mused over this. Maybe he did know more about her than he was giving himself credit for.

"I'm not used to not having the answers, Harry.' She said quietly, coming to a stop by her desk. She ran her fingernails across the wooden grain, her eyes locked on it determinedly as if it held all the answers she was looking for. 'I'm the adult. A parent. I should have the answers to anything and everything."

"Yeah, but about being resurrected after fourteen years of being dead?' asked Harry. 'I didn't know you could even take that class in your 'How to Be a Mental Parent and Drive Your Kids around the Bend' course."

Lily pursed her lips, but was unable to hide her smile.

Sensing his moment, Harry sat down on the bed and looked over at her. "From experience? I think you'll go absolutely bonkers if you obsess over this too much. I get that you want to know – I want to know too. But don't let it become the bane of your existence. They didn't send you back just to wonder about who they are in the first place."

She looked around at him. "You, my son, can be very intelligent when you want to be."

"Gee, thanks."

"Yes, it _is_ a compliment.' She said, sitting on the desk. She considered him for a long moment, trying to see the raw Harry underneath all this layers of personality, but like all before her she found herself finding nothing but a rather large wall. 'How do you do it, then?"

Harry blinked. "Do what? Be intelligent?"

"No…stay grounded. How do you not loose yourself in all that you've learnt, and all that you have yet to learn? How do you not loose yourself when you know what's ahead of you?"

"Well…' he said, getting to his feet to pace. 'I don't know. I've never really thought about it much. I think, maybe…seeing Ron and Hermione.'

Lily smiled. "They ground you?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, they do. All my friends do in their own way, I guess. They're just so _normal_…and when I'm around them, I _feel_ normal. It's like…they strip everything else away, all the murder and the war and my duty as The Chosen One, and all that's left is me. Just me. Not a saviour or a hero or even a wizard…just me. And I get to pretend for just a few minutes that I'm normal, and can sleep in on a Sunday morning, or can stay out late and get drunk, or can fall in love and be with Ginny when I want to be. When I start to loose myself in all the stuff I know I have to do, it's like they…they sort of sense it?...and they're there, reminding me that I'm just Harry, and can still be just Harry. No matter how lost I may get, they always seem to be able to get me back."

As a calm expression crossed over his face as he lost himself momentarily in his thoughts, Lily looked at her son with new eyes. She knew how much he cared for his friends, almost fiercely so, but she didn't think she'd ever heard him talk about them like this before. That what he felt for them wasn't just fondness, but undeniable, unwavering love, so expansive it was almost indescribable.

After a long pause, Harry remembered himself and looked around at his mother again with a bashful smile. "Well, that's what works for me anyway. You could probably use something different – like Orange Juice."

Lily giggled and tilted her head back with a sigh. "Harry, you're such a strange child."

"Well, you're my mother!' he said in mock offence. 'What does that say about you?"

"That your father raised you."

Harry laughed and shoved his hands in his back pockets. "Look, in all seriousness, I don't think you're going to find what you're looking for in a book. Although don't tell Hermione I said that, because she'd probably throw herself off London Bridge just at the thought of any book being unreliable."

"Then how am I going to find it all out?' she asked, throwing her hands up in hopelessness.

"Don't worry, you leave it to us; we'll work it out."

Lily threw him a look. "You will? You… a bunch of teenagers?"

Harry scoffed in mock indignation. "Yes, us, a bunch of teenagers! Like you said, we're very intelligent when we want to be, not to mention very good at working things out. Our résumé is very impressive, you know. We worked out how to get under the school for the Philosophers Stone, we worked out where the Chamber of Secrets was, we worked out how to get past the Whomping Willow, we worked out how to organize a secret rebellion under the Ministry's nose…'

"I get it, Harry, I get it.' She said, putting a hand over his mouth. 'And I appreciate that you want to help so much, but you already have enough to worry about with adding this venture to your 'To Venture Upon' list. I'm perfectly capable of handling it, alright? Leave it to me."

Harry smiled and nodded. "Alright, but if you want help I'm here."

Lily blinked. "You are?"

"Of course when I say 'me', I mean Hermione."

She smiled and shoved him playfully as she resumed her pacing. Harry just stood back and let her release her returning anxieties. She was frowning and her lip was between her teeth. Harry wondered if this is what she used to look like before she had to go into the Great Hall for her exams.

'If only there was someone who we could _ask_,' she said, waving her hands, 'like Dumbledore…'

"Or someone from the Ministry.' Muttered Harry, looking at Lily with a pensive expression. 'People down in the Department of Mysteries must know _something _about that darn veil."

Lily blinked. "Do you know many Unspeakables?"

Harry sighed. "No, can't say I do."

"No, me neither.' Muttered Lily in disappointment. 'Still, it was a good idea, Harry."

Harry smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was an alarming cry of pain. It felt as if someone was tracing his scar with the end of a white-hot knife. He clenched his jaw shut, trying to strangle his screams as he clapped his hands over his forehead. Slamming his eyes shut, he dropped to his knees, hearing Lily's voice like it was on the other side of a large hall, echoing in his head.

"Harry? Harry what is it?' she cried urgently, taking his shoulders. Lily looked into his face, horrified at the look of agony she found. 'Talk to me, Harry!'

Harry groaned and tried to push the searing pain away. He felt outside himself, like he were floating away from his body and drifting away into some different dimension. An alternate place where only he and another existed. Lily's voice was still in his ear, but he barely heard her. In his mind's eye, he could see flashes of images of certain events, events Harry didn't remember seeing or experiencing. There were cloaked figures, people screaming, trains, children, flashes of light. He felt happy for some reason, but it was a happiness that wasn't his own. Happiness… and a bizarre sense of triumph.

Lily took his face in her hands, lifting his head so he could look at her. "Harry, look at me. Just breathe through it… look at me. Harry, _look at me_!"

Harry sucked in quick, sharp breaths, trying to focus on something, _anything_ else. He dragged his eyelids apart and looked into his mother's face with blurry eyes, looking into that face he'd always seen so often in his dreams.

And the pain stopped.

Lily's eyes narrowed as she inspected him. She wiped his bangs out of his sweaty brow, seeing his scar to be a bright red. "Harry? Sweetheart, are you alright?'

Taking slow, shallow breaths, Harry let himself slowly relax as he realized he was alright. He blinked rapidly, looking into space as he tried desperately to piece together what he had seen.

"Harry, for goodness sake, we are on the floor, your scar is bright red and I am freaking out, so you'd better say something soon or I'll…"

"Something's happened.' He croaked out, looking around the room.

Lily blinked. "What?"

But Harry didn't say another word. He looked around again, and now that he listened properly he could hear a fair bit more sudden commotion downstairs – not to mention a lot of disapparating 'cracks'. He exchanged a look with Lily, before they both clambered up to their feet, almost tripping over one another in their haste and rushing out of the room and down stairs.

Harry wasn't even off the staircase when he stopped. The ground floor of Grimmauld Place was full of wizards at witches, some pulling their wands out with determined looks, some chatting hurriedly to each other with harassed tones, and some disappearing into thin air in the blink of an eye.

He reached out for the nearest person, Kingsley, and turned him around by the shoulder away from the two witches he was debriefing. "Kingsley, what's happened?"

Kingsley looked past Harry for a split second, watching as Lily stopped on the stair up from her son, before sighing. "Moody just caught wind of an attack happening in London. Seventeen strong, they believe. We're going now to assist the Ministry."

"Let me come too.' Said Harry instantly.

"Harry, I don't know…'

"Don't be stupid, why not?' snapped Harry. 'I can help. I want to help."

Kingsley grinded his teeth in a moment of indecision, before exhaling slowly through his nose. "Alright…but if any Ministry official asks, you didn't hear any of this from me."

Harry grinned, tapped his nose as Kingsley disapparated with a 'pop'.

"Oh no you don't.' said Lily, grabbing his shoulder just as he went to run down the stairs. She turned him around to face him as the sound of pop's continued and gave him a look. 'Not without me, sonny-Jim."

"What are you on about? You're not coming."

Lily scoffed. "I beg your pardon? Who do you think you are, telling me that I can't go?"

"You're really going to come with me to fight Death Eaters?"

"You're damn right I am."

"In front of probably dozens of Ministry officials, Aurors and God-knows who else?"

Lily's eyes blazed. "Don't you try and get me to sit at home and knit while I wait for my hero son to come back from a hard day's preserving the justice, Harry James Potter. I am not a woman to sit aside in anything, especially this. And I most certainly am not the type of parent who lets her son run head-first into danger without going with him. Now, I don't care if you're paranoid, and I don't care about this secrecy at a time like this. So you'll just have to get over it and just forget about me staying here, because it's not bloody-well happening. Disillusion me, Harry."

"But…but Mum…"

"_DISILLUSION_ me, Harry!"

Harry looked at her for a long moment, his scar beginning to throb again. He didn't really like looking up to her, especially when she had such a burning expression on her face. He didn't want her going at all, but he knew there really was no way he was going to able to stop her.

After a long stubborn pause, he sighed irritably and pulled his wand out of his back pocket.

"Hold still…'

--------------------

As it has always been, the first thing Remus thought when he awoke the next morning was '_urgh…pain…_'.

Even though he didn't turn completely savage during his transformation, Remus's body still reacted to the shift none-the-less. His muscles ached terribly from the ordeal, and he felt as if he'd been run over by a ravenous herd of Thestrals about a dozen times. There was the odd cut or graze from when he had thrashed about as he shifted, but thankfully nothing to the extent he would wake up to find when he was younger.

He knew where he was, despite his eyes being firmly shut. Molly Weasley had set up a little bedroom of sorts down in the basement of Grimmauld Place that was for only Remus to use. When he transformed, sometimes he would really thrash around and could potentially hurt himself on the furniture around him, or even someone else. So, every month he could come down to the basement where there was plenty of room and take the time and space to shift without there being any real sort of risk.

Remus frowned and tried to move, but his every muscle felt like lead. He groaned, wishing someone could turn the sunlight down a notch…and that's when he felt the soothingly cool texture of healing potion being applied to his bare abdomen. He turned his head and dragged his eyes open to look at the woman knelt down beside him, tending to his wounds, surprised with who he found.

"Am I dreaming?' he whispered.

"Do I look like Farrah Fawcett?"

"No."

Lily smiled. "Then you're not dreaming. Turn over a little, will you?"

Remus did as she said, almost completely out of old habit, and took more notice of the immediate surroundings. His bottom half was covered up by the heavy blankets, leaving the rest of his upper body exposed. Lily beside him had a small try table beside her, on which sat various potions, ointments, gauze and bandages. She had a cloth in her hand, and was dipping it in a steaming bowl of boiling water with a very professional grace…despite the fact that she was absolutely filthy.

"Arm up please.' She said, ringing out the excess water from the cloth.

He didn't move. "What in Merlin's name happened to you? You look like you've been dragged through a pig pen."

Lily rolled her eyes, grabbed his wrist and lifted his arm to get to the claw marks just under his arm. "Damn bloody roof fell in right beside me. I got plaster and dust and dirt everywhere. I tell you, I'm extremely lucky that I'm not a Potter Pancake right now."

"Oh, right, the attack.' Muttered Remus, flinching away from the sting of his cuts as she cleaned them. 'You actually went?"

"Of course I went."

Remus sighed and let his eyes fall shut again. "Some things never change, do they?"

Lily smiled and put his arm back down. "Well, when you spend a good fourteen years in heaven, you really don't have the opportunity to change all that much."

The room lightened a little more with the morning sun, and Remus wanted to hiss at it and run under his bed to stop his head from pounding. His body was starting to wake up, and didn't feel so much like a dead weight. He turned his head, blinking a few stray hairs out of his eyes and looked at one of his oldest friends beside him as she mixed up potion ingredients into a thick, purple paste. She dipped another clean cloth in the potion, lathering up a certain amount and reached from Remus's cuts on his arm…when he flinched away from her.

Lily blinked in surprise. "Remus…'

"I'm sorry, Lily, its just…' he paused and looked away from her, blushing. 'It's just…Dora does that for me."

"Oh.' Said Lily, honestly a little put out. She nodded and put the cloth back on the table. 'Okay, that's fine."

"It's nothing personal…"

"Remus, its fine. Honestly.' She laughed, giving his hand a squeeze.

But he could tell it wasn't fine. During their later years at school, Lily had gotten into the habit of sneaking down to the Shrieking Shack in the morning after his transformation and tending to his wounds before Madam Pomfrey showed up. After his initial mortification of her being anywhere near him during such a time, Remus had slowly grown to like waking up to her in the morning, potions and bandages ready. Even after they had left school, and she and James had moved in together and gotten married, she would still manage to come to him every now and again to fix him right up. It had been one of the things he had missed most when she had died. Waking up to find no-one there in the morning had been horribly lonely and depressing.

And then, toward the end of Harry's fourth year, Tonks had for some unknown reason taken it upon herself to start taking care of him in the morning. He had flat out refused at the start, not just because of the fact that he barely knew her at the time, but because he both felt as though she shouldn't be tending to an old man like him when he'd been perfectly capable of doing it for himself for thirteen years, and that she was taking Lily's spot unawares. But, time had passed and he had realized that she was just far too stubborn to be told otherwise. When they had finally gotten together at the end of June, the morning ritual had become more intimate and more personal, and he was so used to it now that having Lily taking her spot up again just seemed like a small invasion of privacy. He still needed time to work her back into her old places, and this was going to be one of the debatable ones.

He cleared his throat and sat up a little. "So…how did the siege go?"

Lily sighed and pulled up a chair, suddenly looking very tired. "As well as zealous, poignant attacks in plain muggle sight can go, I guess."

"Any injuries?"

"I don't think there was a single person there who didn't get at least one cut of bruise on them.' Said Lily, sitting back and folding her hands behind her head. 'Molly got these huge massive boils up the side of her arm, Kingsley has this huge gash across his chest, Tonks got her knee dislocated…oh, don't worry, she's fine…poor Ron had both his hands transfigured into massive crab's claws though. Whoa boy, you should have seen Hermione when he got cursed."

"The kids went as well?"

"We tried to stop them, believe me."

"Any fatalities?"

Lily paused. "None on our side, or theirs…but by the time we got there, three muggles were dead. Instant; Avada Kedavra."

Remus shook his head in disbelief. "I still can't believe they attacked Kings Cross. It makes so sense strategically. It's not the beginning of the school year, so there would be no muggle-borns for them to attack."

"They didn't want muggle-borns…they wanted _muggles_. There was nothing planned about their attack but the fact that they were all sent to the same location. They didn't care who they hit, just as long as they hit someone and made sure they stayed down.' She looked away and shook her head. 'Bastards. They just didn't _care_! Didn't care about anyone's lives, or muggle discretion…"

"Well, Death Eaters aren't usually known for their subtlety.' Said Remus, sitting up a little more. 'What happened when you arrived?"

Lily sighed and rubbed her face. "Well, there were already a couple of dozen Auror's there. There were about thirteen Death Eaters left when we arrived, and if you never thought they were mental before, this would have confirmed your suspicion. When Harry and I apparated in, Kinglsey and everyone else were already in there, backing up the other Aurors. The Death Eaters didn't seem too surprised to see the Order there – in fact; I think they were _expecting it_, because they went as us hard and fast."

"How did you get away without any of them seeing you? Were you Disillusioned?"

"Yes, Harry did it for me just before we left. Anyway, they blew apart most of platform seven and a good chunk of platform eight. You should have seen it, Remus! Bricks and plaster everywhere. They derailed a train, blew a massive hole in the ceiling and threw Killing Curses at anything that wasn't wearing a black cloak and mask. I think the only reason I got so many down was because they couldn't see where my spells were coming from."

Remus rubbed his arm. "What did they do when they saw Harry?"

"Honestly…they kind of freaked out a little.' She said, thinking back to their ordeal just a few hours ago. 'They tried to act like they weren't surprised about him being there, and I don't really think they were quite frankly, but they still kind of just…stopped when he appeared. Everyone just _stopped_, just to look at him.'

Lily went into a moment's silent thoughtful pause, before shaking herself. "I'd forgotten how much of a punch Death Eater's pack. I haven't felt like that in so long. It was just so…intense and fast."

"I'm sorry I missed it.' He smiled.

"Oh, don't be!' she laughed.

Remus chuckled, but then winced in pain. He laid himself down again, relaxing his muscles and feeling that nice ache you felt when you unclenched your muscles after a long moment of tension. He exhaled slowly and looked around at Lily again to find her watching him. He smiled and she smiled back.

And then she burst into tears.

Remus's eyes widened as she leant forward and rested her arms on the edge of the mattress, burying her head in her arms and gasping in soft, rather quiet hysterical sobs. He just stared at her, stuck in a stupor and quite unable to make anything of this sudden shift in mood.

"Lily, what on _earth_…"

"You should have _seen_ him, Remus!' she cried, sitting up quickly. Her eyes were red from both crying and fatigue, and she looked more desperate than upset. 'You should have seen what he did! How he did it! Five of them went for him – _five_! And he took them all! Not at the same time, of course, but…_five_, Remus! Five Death Eaters, five full-grown adults, went for _my son_, and he took all of them without one hint of fear in his eyes. And all I could sodding do was stand there and bloody watch!"

Remus felt his heart go out to her. She sat back in her seat with one final dry sob and put her face in her hands, her whole body shaking as she drew in slow, deep breaths. Personally, he knew how nerve-wracking it was to watch Harry do something possibly life threatening. He could only imagine what she felt, especially being his actual parent and even more so when, to her, he was only in diapers a month or so ago.

Lily laughed and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, I haven't seen hysterical like that since Lizzie Kroger from Hufflepuff found out Norman Livingston was cheating on her with that Prefect from Slytherin."

"It's alright to be concerned for him.' Said Remus. 'I don't think there's one of us in this Order that isn't concerned for him. Its nothing to be ashamed of, its something to be proud of."

"Yeah, right,' she laughed sardonically, pulling a handkerchief out and wiping her nose. 'I should be proud of being mentally insane whenever Harry walks out that door. I should be proud that I feel a surge of anger and frustration when I can't protect him."

"No, you should be proud that you love him so much that you feel all these mentally insane tendencies.' Said Remus. Lily let out a small giggle and Remus gave her knee a squeeze. 'Just imagine how Molly feels."

Lily laughed and smoothed her hair out. 'Good God, it's a wonder she doesn't have her own room at St Mungo's. What with two in the Order, four wanting to join and one doing Lord knows what…'

Remus sat up again, feeling much more alert and active and pulled the blanket up a little more. "He'll be alright. You both will. It's scary; I know that – it always has been."

"I just don't think he's ready for this.' Said Lily, shaking her head. 'He's not ready for any of it. He shouldn't _have_ to be ready for any of it. He's just a kid, Remus. How does someone as young as him prepare himself for what he has to do? How does he prepare himself for murder?" she rubbed her eyes and leant forward, resting her elbows on her knees. 'Seeing him out there tonight was just…such an eye-opener. He's a very good and powerful wizard, anyone can see that. But people get wrapped up in the notion that he's The Boy Who Lived, and seem to forget that he's just Harry Potter, a young man who hasn't even finished school yet."

"Some of the greatest leaders in history were the most unassuming people.' Said Remus. 'Joan of Ark, King Arthur, Moses, Jesus…Frodo and Sam…'

Lily sighed and nodded. "Yes, I know. It's just such a hard concept to grasp. How do we know when he's ready?"

"We don't.' said Remus simply. 'But what we do know is that when that awful day finally comes, he sure as hell will not be alone."

Lily smiled determinedly and opened her mouth to say something, when the sound of footsteps on the staircase increased in volume and Ginny Weasley appeared.

"Oh, er…I'm sorry, Mrs. Potter, Professor.' She said, looking very uncomfortable. 'I didn't mean to interrupt anything."

"No, Ginny, it's alright.' Said Remus, pulling his covers up a little more as Lily sat up straighter, pulling her hand out of Remus's grasp. 'We're done.'

Ginny arched a skeptical eyebrow, but moved closer anyway. "Are you sure? I can come back…'

"No, of course not, don't be silly.' Smiled Lily, beckoning her hopefully future daughter-in-law over to them. 'We're only getting ourselves into one of those despicably glum moods anyway. You're timing is perfect. Now, what can we do for you?"

"Actually, I was wondering if either of you had seen Harry.' Said Ginny, blushing. It was apparent that she didn't like discussing her need to see Harry with his mother.

Remus and Lily exchanged a grin. "No, sweetheart, I haven't seen him.' Said Lily, shrugging. 'He's not upstairs?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, I've looked everywhere and no-one else has seen him."

"He must still be over at the Ministry then.' Said Lily. 'I don't imagine he'll be too much longer."

Ginny nodded knowingly, but Remus frowned. "What's he doing at the Ministry? Did he get in strife for helping out in the city?"

"Oh, no,' reassured Lily, giving him a smile. 'He went back with Moody to help bring in the Death Eater's they managed to get in custody. I don't know why he felt he had to, it's not like there weren't plenty of Auror's already there to do it…'

"Who did they manage to get?" asked Remus, looking at both Ginny and Lily for an answer.

"Er, there was… Avery, Jugson and Rookwood."

"And Moody was alright with him doing this?' asked Remus in disbelief.

Lily shrugged, but Ginny made a soft of an indignant grunt and folded her arms over her chest.

Remus frowned at her. "Ginny, what's the matter? Did you want to go with him too?"

"Yes, and that's the point.' Said Ginny, her eyes blazing. 'He didn't even ask me to come with him. Hermione and Ron got to go, but oh no…not Ginny…Ginny has to stay home and darn socks…'

Lily giggled as Ginny turned on her heel with another huff and stormed back up the stairs, muttering angrily to herself.

"What's wrong with her?" asked Remus.

"She's looking for Harry so she can yell at him, I expect." Laughed Lily.

"So, she's mad because Harry _didn't_ take her to a Death Eater attack where she could have been seriously injured or even killed?"

"That's about it, yes."

Remus sighed and shook his head. "Teenage girls. I've never been able to work them out. Even when I was teaching them, they were the biggest riddle in the known world."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Well, teenage boys aren't exactly an easily solved riddle. Now, you just lay here and keep your thoughts of teenage girls. I'm going to have a quick shower, and then I'm going to get you some food – you looked famished."

"Okay, but remember, it has to be…'

"Very rare steak, yes, I remember!"

* * *

A/N – I know, maybe I was lazy not putting in the battle scene, but it wasn't really all that important to see in detail. Everything you need to know about it, you can learn in the next chapter!

Please review!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19!

* * *

"I really don't see what you have to gain from doing this, Potter. We've got all the information we need to lock him up. And we certainly don't need _you_ going in there and questioning him." 

Harry clenched his jaw, not looking away from the closed wooden door beside him. He folded his arms over his chest, grabbing a hold of the small slither of hope in existence that his closed off pose would give Moody the impression of determination and deter him from asking any more questions, or trying to talk him out of what he wanted to do. But, Moody just kept both eyes on Harry, resolving to be as stubborn as Harry was.

Moody's magical eye spun around in its socket very quickly, but other than that he didn't move a muscle. "Potter, you're extremely lucky I brought you up here in the first place. No one but Aurors and Ministry officials ever even get past the front desk."

"I was hovering a stunned Death Eater in front of me! What did they want me to do? Leave him at the desk? Sit him in the waiting room?"

"You're lucky I wasn't court marshaled, boy!' barked Moody, giving Harry a quick whack in the back of the shins with his cane. 'It's bad enough that I let an unqualified wizard bring in a Death Eater, let alone it being you…'

"It's _me_, Moody!' laughed Harry, grabbing Moody's cane mid-swipe as it went for his head. 'Times being what they are lately, I don't think anyone will mind me helping you out."

"Even though you told Scrimgeour quite unkindly that you weren't going to?' said Moody, raising a scarred eyebrow. Harry looked away, bowing his head. 'Yeah, didn't think we knew about _that_ conversation, did you?"

"I wasn't helping Scrimgeour, or the Ministry,' muttered Harry, 'I was helping you. I was helping the Order."

"You want to tell them that?' muttered Moody, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

Down the end of the hall where he had pointed, the massive Auror's office was a buzzing hive of activity. Wizards and witches were popping in and out, sitting at desks writing notes, talking to one another, running around and carrying out many different other chores. Memos were zooming everywhere at an alarming speed. The whole atmosphere was a frenzy of excitement, anger and determination all mixed in one as they sorted out the attack on Kings Cross station.

Harry ruffled his hair and stepped aside as two more wizards with their heads together in conversation bustled past. "There's a lot of paperwork to do, isn't there?"

"Aye, there is. Forms to be filling out, memos to write, letters of condolence…' Moody trailed off and looked at Harry, who was looking back at the Auror's office over his shoulder in interest. 'Why the curiosity?"

"Oh, er,' muttered Harry, dragging his eyes away back to the old man beside him. 'It's just strange to process, you know? That the first thing you do when you come back from something like this is… fill out forms. Seems very formal for such a personal ordeal, is all. But, then again I guess that's part of the job, isn't it? Learning how to separate yourself a little."

Moody surveyed Harry. "You know, Potter, I'd think you'd be a mighty fine Auror one of these days."

Harry looked back at him, eyebrows raised. "You already told me that."

"No, I ruddy well didn't!' snapped Moody, his magical eye going into another angry frenzy. 'That scummy coward was a Death Eater, and wouldn't know anything about what it means to be an Auror. I know different, and I'm telling you now you've got what it takes."

"You really think so?"

"Darn right I do. Personally, though don't tell anyone I told you this, I reckon you've got the right mettle for it – especially after the way you handled all that with your mother."

"Anyone would have done the same."

Moody rolled his eyes. "You certainly know how to take the wind out of the sails of a perfectly good compliment, don't you laddie?"

Harry shrugged bashfully. "Just an old habit, I guess."

Letting the moment pass, Moody scratched his chin roughly and surveyed Harry with his good eye and the door beside them with his magical one. "You shouldn't be here, Potter. Go home, be with your mother and friends, have a shower…you could use one…'

"You can talk.' Retorted Harry humoursly. Indeed both of them were filthy with dirt, sweat and rubble from the attack at the station.

Moody's eyes narrowed. "I could get in a serious amount of trouble for letting you do this, you know."

"I just want to talk to him for a bit."

"What about?"

"It's personal.' Muttered Harry, looking at his feet.

Moody groaned. "Potter…'

"Look, Professor…I mean, Moody…I need to talk to him. He's the only person I know of who can help me with this. The only one who could possibly have any answers." Said Harry, giving the Auror a pleading look.

Moody considered him again with that piercing look Harry had almost forgotten he could perform. As if he were trying to see right through him to see his true intentions and thereby deciding if he really should let Harry do what it was he wanted to do. Moody's magical eye was fixated right on him, and had Harry not been so used to it by now he probably would have cracked.

Finally, Moody gripped his cane tightly and pulled his wand out of his trench coat with a sigh. "I'm going to be in there with you. Don't try anything stupid."

Harry only had time to grin as Moody strode forward, jerked his wand at the non-existent door handle and pushed the door inward. He went in first, grabbing Harry by the front of the shirt and dragging him in behind him. Harry righted himself as the door slammed shut behind him and looked around the small room he had just entered.

It was a rather small room, its only pieces of furniture consisting of a table and three chairs. The walls were wooden panels, vertical as if they were inside a wooden cabin. There were no windows, and the only way in or out was through the door in which they had just entered. The walls were glistening with, what Harry could gather, was a magical force field to prevent escape or apparating or anything like that. There was a small orb, like a crystal ball hovering above them like a light, emitting a bright glow into the room like the interrogation light you saw used on police investigation shows.

And sitting at the table in the middle of the room, was a dirty, thin, sunken face wizard.

He had long, thin hair that fell over his face. His cheekbones were prominent and his skin was waxy and stretchy. He reminded Harry of Sirius when he had first broken out of Azkaban…except Sirius hadn't been wearing heavy, dark Death Eater robes. Harry stayed back in the shadows, unsure of how to approach him.

Moody stepped forward, hitting the legs of the table with his cane. "Oi, wake up!"

The old wizard jumped out of his stupor and looked up in alarm. His moment of confusion passed, and when he locked eyes on Moody his look of surprise morphed into anger and loathing. "Buzz off, Moody; I've got nothing more to say to you."

"You've got a lot more explaining to be doing to me, Augustus, old _friend_.' Sneered Moody, his magical eye pulsing. 'You think that pathetic little anecdote you just told me even begins to excuse what you did today?"

"I want no pardon or acquittal from you or anyone else, _Alastor_.' Growled Rookwood, his voice gravelly. 'You can take your justification and shove it. My loyalties are to you no longer."

"So I've heard.' Growled Moody, glaring at the man seated at the table.

Harry kept silent by the door, aware of the tension between the two men. Somehow, it seemed more personal than professional. Had the two of them been comrades during their time working together? Maybe even friends? Moody wouldn't have been the first person to have a friend betray them in this war.

"Look, Mad-Eye, I know my rights. If you have nothing else to ask me, you lock me up. I don't have to sit here any longer if you've no further questions."

"Oh, I got questions all right.' Sneered Moody, giving Rookwood a look. 'And believe me; I'll be getting right to them. But for now, there's someone else here who wants to have a little chat with you. And you'd better be nice to him, because if I see any foul play, you'll be regretting the day you crossed me."

"I'm shivering in my little Death Eater boots.' Sighed Rookwood, sitting back in his seat lazily. 'Who have you brought with you then, Mad-Eye?' he asked, looking at Harry's hidden form in the corner. 'A new intern, hoping to talk to a real life Death Eater?"

"Believe me,' said Harry coolly, stepping out of the shadow to reveal his face, 'I've had enough talks with real live Death Eaters to last me three lifetimes."

The effect was dramatically predictable. Rookwood seemed to flinch as Harry stepped into the interrogation light, his eyes widening in surprise and anxiety. He looked at Harry as if he were an atomic bomb or a wild animal, completely unpredictable of what it may do next. But the expression only lasted a few moments, for Rookwood seemed to gather his senses, remember that this was just a boy and organized his expression back into the cool indifference hehad beenwearing when Harry walked in.

Rookwood laughed softly and looked at Moody. "What is this, Alastor, a new tactic? Going to use this boy to get me to talk? Let me be the firs to inform you that it's not going to work; I have nothing else to say to you."

"It's nothing to do with him,' Said Harry, pulling up a chair and sitting down across from the Death Eater. He didn't know where he had the bravery to do this. Sitting across from Rookwood wasn't as easy as he had thought it would be, even if it was just to ask questions. Interrogating Mundungus was one thing, but trying to get a real, devoted Death Eater to talk with nothing but the power of persuasion was going to be as difficult now as it had been when he had thought his mother was a Death Eater. Especially when it was such a personal matter.

The older man just surveyed Harry with a steely glare. He put his hands up on the table, and Harry saw he had cuffs on – cuffs that were glowing a pale blue colour. He didn't know much about all the magical adjustments and gadgets they used, but he guessed the cuffs had something to do with restricting Rookwoods magic somehow.

It was a good long minute later that Harry realized Rookwood wasn't going to say anything. Harry felt his confidence flounder, but he didn't let it show. He wasn't intimidated when he had been interrogating his mother, and he certainly wasn't going to be intimidated now.

"I bet you don't feel one bit of remorse for what you did today, do you?' said Harry, not bothering to keep the revulsion out of his tone.

Rookwood smiled unkindly. "You do-gooders…such hypocrites. You would kill us without a second thought, but when we attack Muggles it's a whole different story."

"You murder innocent people." Snapped Harry.

"Murder is murder, Potter.' Responded Rookwood calmly.

Harry felt his whole body tingling with rage, but he kept cool. He had one purpose in being here, and he needed to get on with it. "I want to talk to you about the Ministry of Magic."

"Talk away."

"You worked in the Department of Mysteries, didn't you?"

"Isn't that common knowledge by now?' laughed Rookwood. 'Alastor, what kind of organization are you running here?"

"Shut your mouth, Rookwood, unless young Mr. Potter asks you a direct question.' Barked Moody.

Rookwood glared at Moody for a long moment, before looking away down at the floor in a bored disinterest.

Harry sat up straighter. "How much did you know about everything down there?"

Rookwood ignored him.

"Look, I know you Unspeakables had to have a fair amount of knowledge about what went on. You can't pretend you didn't know anything."

Rookwood still ignored him.

Harry let out a soft, impatient sigh. Apparently sensing what he needed, Moody quickly stepped forward back out of the shadows and whacked his cane hard on the table, making both Harry and Rookwood jump. Moody leant over and pushed the end of his cane threateningly into the hollow of his neck, his expression one of impatience and fury.

"Listen to me, _Augustus_. The way I see it you have two choices. You can either talk to Mr. Potter here like a civilized gentleman and answer all his questions while we're still young and relatively sane, or I can ship you off to Azkaban right now and put you in a cell so deeply imbedded even the food trays wont be able to find you."

"You think Azkaban can hold me?' said Rookwood, although he didn't look very confident with Moody's cane resting on his collarbone. 'I broke out once, I can do it again."

"You want to try me?" sneered Moody, applying a little more pressure into the hollow of Rookwood's throat.

Rookwood was breathing heavily through his nose, looking down at the end of the cane and knowing as much as Harry that if Moody applied just a little more pressure, he could cut of his air supply. Another long, tense moment passed, and Harry wished for a split second that he hadn't come at all.

Moody let another moment pass, before lifting his cane away and putting it back at his side. Rookwood's shoulders relaxed and he sat up again properly. "Lets try this again, shall we?' said Moody, both magical and non magical eyes set on Rookwood. When he said nothing, Moody looked back at Harry, gave him a quick wink and then stepped back into the shadow again.

Harry took a second to gather his wits before turning back to Rookwood. The Death Eater had his lips pursed incessantly as he glared at the table, but Harry could tell he had his attention. "How much did you know about everything down there?"

Rookwood clenched his jaw, and for a split second Harry was convinced he wasn't going to say anything. But then he drew in a breath and said, "None of us ever knew everything about all that the Department contained. That's why we had such demanding work hours. It was our job to figure it all out. Riddle out the mysteries that all the artifacts held deep inside themselves. Hence why it was called the Department of _Mysteries_."

"What do you know about The Veil?" said Harry, ignoring the last pitch of sarcasm.

This grabbed his attention. Rookwood looked up at Harry, his dark lifeless eyes narrowing as his features molded into a cold smile. "Is that what all this is about? You're looking to try and get that blood traitor Godfather of yours back? Going to run in after him? Your heroism obviously knows no bounds…including intelligence."

Harry grit his teeth. "What is it?"

Rookwood sighed. "It's against Ministry protocol, not to mention my oath as an Unspeakable, for me to discuss confidential information such as this with unofficial members of the Ministry community…"

"Save me the loyal sentiment old man, its nothing but blatant hypocrisy' Sneered Harry, leaning over the table. 'None of that oath crap stopped you from blabbing everything you knew about the Department of Mysteries to Voldemort in the hey day, did it?"

There was no sound after this forceful outburst, except for the strangled cough from in the corner.

Harry gave Rookwood a look. "What is it?"

Rookwood pursed his lips, gave the shadow over Harry's shoulder a quick glance and cleared this throat. "The Veil is not what you should be focusing on. I'm sure that you'd like to think that your Godfather, Black, was not sent onto the afterlife by an assault of bad-tempered drapery, wouldn't you?' he said, quirking an eyebrow. Not letting Harry take a moment to take the bait, he went on. 'The stone structure on which it stands, from which The Arch was formed, is the key in its mystery. The stone was forged from the missing Heel Stone of _Chorea gigantum_."

"'_Chorea gigantum'_?" asked Harry, very confused.

"Or '_Cor y Cewri'_ as the Celts and eventually we came to call it.' Said Rookwood looking for the first time since Harry had met him as a professional Unspeakable, knowing exactly what he was talking about. 'More commonly known to the average Wizard and Muggle as Stonehenge, I believe."

Harry's eyes widened. "The Veil…er, rather, The _Arch_…is made from a missing rock from _Stonehenge_?"

"_Cor y Cerwi_ has magical properties that muggles and most wizards aren't even aware of.' Said Rookwood calmly, sitting back in his seat. 'The stones in that circle hold old magic, powerful ancient magic that still exists today. Muggles have their ideas and theories on how it came to be so, but we of course know better. _Cor y Cewri_ was brought about centuries ago by one of the greatest of us all. Merlin himself personally oversaw the creation of the Giants Ring, ensuring the blue stone safely to England from Ireland. The ancient scrolls we have researched told of the High King of their age, Aurelius Ambrosius, wanting to create a fitting memorial site to his fallen men in one of their largest massacres in medieval history. He went to Merlin, asking for help with such a memorial. Merlin told him of the Giants who had brought the stones to Ireland from Africa to Mount Killaraus, and of their uses for healing and other rituals."

"So how did they get them over here?' asked Harry.

"The chronicles go on to say that Merlin and King Uther led an expedition to retrieve the stones, but the muggle warriors they took with them did not have the physical strength or the magic to transport them, and Merlin did not have the energy to be apparating forty tonne stones hundred of miles alone. So, using the magic he possessed and the collective magic of local wizards in the area, they dismantled the stones, allowing the muggle warriors to carry them back where they would be put back together again once they reached England. Merlin knew the care they would have to take; as such precious relics could not be treated lightly. Once they arrived back at Salisbury Plain, Merlin and the other wizards of their area helped construct the circle again around the graves of the noblemen who had died in the battle. It was where Aurelius, Uther and King Arthur's successor Constantine were all later laid to rest."

"So, what, Merlin just decided to steal one of the stones?' asked Harry, frowning.

"Not steal so much as…remove.' Said Rookwood. 'He knew the power of the stones when put together; the people of the mountain had proved it in their use of them. He didn't want any corrupt kings or…_eccentric_ wizards…using it for wrong. The stones were meant for tranquility, for healing and reflection. Not for abuse and personal gain."

Harry rubbed his scar, feeling a headache coming on. This was too much history for him to handle, and he wondered if maybe he should have sent Hermione in his place. "Well, if Merlin took it centuries ago, how did it end up at the Ministry?"

"Details you need not concern yourself with.' Said Rookwood simply. 'Lots of research, many expeditions, dozens of dead wizards and four broken backs later…we claimed it for our possession. No other Ministry knows we have it on grounds. They believe its existence to be myth. Stories told from the old days where Magic was used freely, and not hidden under the earth like a common rodent.' He sneered, looking around the room as if suddenly feeling revolted.

"So what does it do?"

Rookwood pursed his lips and looked very reluctant to continue, but he did so beside his better judgment. "We never unraveled its mysteries completely. All research attempts were ordered to stop after the amount of lives that were lost."

Harry swallowed. "People _died_?"

"That's what we assumed. You have seen for yourself what happens first hand when one walks through that arch. They go through…but they don't come out the other side.' Said Rookwood softly. 'When the first wizard went through, another went in after him to see what happened. And then another after him…' he trailed off and lifted his cuffed hands to scratch his dirty beard. 'We said enough after the third man lost. After that, we decided to study it from the outside while we sent in…other forms of retrieval."

"Other forms of retrieval?' asked Harry, not liking the sound of that at all.

Rookwood smiled unkindly. "House Elves are much more expendable than wizards."

Harry pushed away his feeling of anger as Rookwood chuckled to himself, trying to keep focused on his questions rather than his boiling anger towards the Ministry of Magic. "You still haven't answered my question. What does it do?"

"Well, there was debate amongst us of what its real purpose was. The majority of us believed it to be a one-way portal to some sort of parallel world, existing outside our own space and time."

"And the minority?"

Rookwood sighed. "The minority also believe it to be a doorway between two worlds. Not between an alternate reality, but between life and death. The way Merlin used it, the way the people before him used it, suggested that its healing had something to do with not just physical wounds. The ground on which _Cor y Cerwi_ is build is a memorial ground for both the living and the dead remember."

"So The Arch is some sort of gateway?"

"That's one of the more popular theories, yes. It certainly explains why no-one ever came out the other side."

"No-one's ever come out at all?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Then where do the whispers come from?"

Rookwood paused. His eyes narrowed at Harry in suspicion, and Harry had to try very hard not to fidget under his stare. "How do you know of the whispers?"

"Er…someone I was with, when we were down there…she heard them.' He said quickly. It wasn't a total lie.

"Someone you were with?' smirked Rookwood. 'Was it that Mudblood who nearly died?"

Harry felt his blood boil again. He put his hands in his lap, out of sight where he could ball them tightly into fists. "Why could whispers be heard?"

Rookwood sighed as if bored. "Now _that_ we don't really know. Some of my old colleagues often said they could hear voices through The Arch, as if beckoning them closer. Some described it as a seductive song, like Veela Song, but more earthly."

Thinking back to his time down in the Department of Mysteries a year ago, Harry remembered the sensation when he had heard the whispers. As if someone were standing right there on the other side, drawing him forward, wanting him to come through and be with them. But still, all these clues could only lead to a guess of how his mother was alive again. Even now solutions were formulating in his head, and he couldn't wait to get home and brainstorm with her about them.

"You never answered my question; why the curiosity anyway, Potter?' asked Rookwood suddenly, brining Harry out of his thoughtful reverie. 'Thinking of going through, are you? Trying to bring your Godfather back? Go ahead; it'll do us all a favor. My Lord will be able to have an early vacation."

"Maybe I'll send you through instead.' Growled Harry, getting to his feet. 'That'll do _us_ all a favour." He looked around at Moody and nodded. 'I think we're done here."

"You think the Dark Lord is finished with you?' cried Rookwood suddenly as Moody beckoned Harry toward the door. 'You think today was something? You just wait until the final reckoning. Judgment Day is coming, Potter."

"Then pray there's a merciful God on the stand,' said Harry over his shoulder, 'because otherwise you're going to need a damn good lawyer to get out of this one."

And with that, he and Moody left.

----------------

_She was floating. _

_That was really the only earthly way to describe the sensation. Every fiber and nerve felt electrified and switched on, and yet strangely alien, as if she were not used to her own form. There was no sense of mass or weight or gravity…just air and openness. Feelings overtook the sensation of being. Feelings of joy and wholesomeness and other powerful emotions some people didn't even get to feel properly for they were so strong. _

_Turning, as it would be described by mortals, she felt a presence beside her. A familiar presence, as well known as her own. She reached out for it, drawing it to her, embracing it and relishing in all its familiarity and energy. It had no name, it had no face…but it did have significance. It was an energy she never wanted to release, to be without, or to loose. She wanted to mould it with her own, making them one so they would never be apart. The feelings created when they connected were almost overwhelming. To her, everything was as it should have been. _

_And then a disturbance occurred. _

_Not a bad disturbance, just different. All other forms around her shifted, as if to make way for it. It was very familiar to her, and she reached out for it to embrace it. But it wouldn't come to her. It hovered, just inches of space away, and it seemed as if the endless sensation known to mortals as time had suddenly frozen. A single moment of hesitation, as if something were seriously wrong, before something new happened. Something changed, shifted, formed…she felt her embrace of her other energy slip away…felt heavy… _

Lily woke up with a cry, sitting upright on the couch. She looked around with wide eyes, drawing in deep breaths as she tried to calm down. She relaxed a little, pushing her hair off her sweaty forehead. Looking around, she saw the living room now completely empty.

Rolling her eyes with a groan, Lily rubbed her eyes and slowed her breathing. She must have fallen asleep while waiting for Harry, for it had been mid morning when she had reclined on the couch to read. Sure enough, looking at her watch she saw it was just before one, and her book on Charms was now lying wide open on the floor.

She ran her hands through her hair and let out a tired groan. She felt drowsy and lightheaded, as if she'd slept for ten years instead of four hours. It was quiet in the living room, but when she really listened she could hear the occasional voice coming from downstairs. Getting to her feet slowly, she dopily made her way through the house and down to the kitchen to find Ron, Molly, Hermione, Remus and Ginny all down there, all of them freshened up and clean, sitting around the table and chatting over various plates of food. She was glad to see them all together, and even gladder to see Remus up and dressed and eating cooked food.

"Oh, Lily, you're awake!' cried Molly upon seeing Lily appear at the bottom of the stairs.

Lily smiled and gave a little wave. "Yes, call of the proper authorities, she lives."

"I made stew. I saved you some, dear. It's in the pot on the stove if you want some."

"Thanks, I might in a bit.' Yawned Lily, flopping down beside Ron. 'What have I missed?"

"Oh, you know, the usual.' Said Remus, shrugging as he spooned stew into his mouth. 'The Black Plague, the invention of the wheel, the first man on the moon…"

Lily threw a bread roll at his head.

"We were going to wake you, but you seemed so peaceful.' Said Hermione with a smile. 'Not to mention you looked exhausted after this afternoon."

Molly let out an indignant snort and Lily smiled. She knew how livid Molly had been about the kids going, and she apparently still wasn't letting her ill feelings go, nor was she afraid to let everyone within fifty kilometers know of her feelings.

Lily stretched and yawned again. "Where's Harry? Not back yet?"

Remus shook his head. "No, whatever he's doing with Moody it must be extensive."

"He's probably trying to sign up for the next Auror internship.' Laughed Ron. 'Because saving the world doesn't take up enough of his time."

"He'd better not be.' Said Ginny, shivering. 'Its bad enough all the stuff he has to put up with now, let alone going on with other Dark magical problems."

"I agree.' Said Hermione, nodding. 'He needs to focus. This isn't OWL's…he can't just wing it."

"But, winging it is what we do best.' Said Ron.

Hermione sighed. "Sadly I fear it is."

"Aw, come on,' said a new voice from the stairs. 'Everyone knows the best strategies are worked out in five minutes on café napkins."

Lily looked around and laughed as Harry came over to them, his clothes still filthy and a grin on his grimy face. She smiled and got up to greet him. "Don't be so horribly sarcastic. Where in God's green earth have you been, son?"

"Following up a lead.' He said, giving her a significant look.

Lily frowned, confused, but kept silent.

"A lead from whom? Moody?" asked Ron, sitting up straighter.

"Er…kind of…it's hard to explain."

"Then don't explain!' said Molly, getting to her feet. 'Get over here now, Harry, you look famished. Ron, go get Harry and Lily their dinner, for heaven's sake."

"Harry can get his own food!' retorted Ron.

"Now!' shouted Molly, pointing at the kitchen.

Ron glared at her, threw Ginny a look for an unknown reason, then got up with a huff and stormed off into the kitchen.

Harry smiled and sat down next to Ginny with an exhausted sigh. He looked at Ginny and saw her to be watching him. He smiled, and with a grin she took his hand, gave it a comforting squeeze to welcome him back, and then went back to her meal.

"Honestly, Harry, I don't know what you were thinking.' Muttered Molly indignantly as Ron came back and gave Harry and Lily their bowl's of food.

"Probably a good thing.' Muttered Harry, blushing into his bowl.

"You can't just go to an attack like that and expect nothing to happen as a consequence.' Continued Molly, not hearing him. 'You're lucky the Ministry didn't decide to arrest you or something for intervening. That goes for you two as well!' she added, giving Hermione and Ron stern looks.

"Well, no offence Mrs. Weasley, but we _are_ of age.' Said Hermione, looking at her three friends for support. 'It's perfectly legal for any witch or wizard to want to participate in a siege like that. In fact, I would expect the Ministry would be _grateful_ for the extra hands."

"Well, yes…but…' spluttered Molly, obviously put out by Hermione argument. She sighed and looked at Lily. 'Don't you have a problem with this?"

"Of course I do.' Said Lily. 'I have a problem with this whole entire bloody situation. But, Hermione's right – they are of age. And I can't stop them anymore than you can. And personally, I'd rather have them there with me where I could keep an eye on them instead of them being at home where anything could happen. Isn't that right, Harry?"

Harry stared back determinedly at the pointed look his mother was giving him. "_Yes,_ Mum, if you say so."

Molly looked at Remus, ready to ask for his back up, but he simply shook his head and continued to eat his stew. She rolled her eyes and got up. "Very well, if you all don't need me which you've made _quite_ clear…I'll be home at the Burrow with Arthur!"

And with that, she got up and stormed out of the room.

A stunned silence followed her sudden departure, before Ginny let out a low whistle. "Ron, lets hope that insanity skips a generation."

"I pray nightly.' Said Ron, nodding.

"She's just concerned, you know.' Said Lily, giving Ron's arm a playful slap. 'It's not easy to see your kids in a situation like you were all in today."

"But we're in that situation all the time.' Said Ron.

"Then you should probably guess why your mother acts like a crazy person ninety nine percent of the time.' Said Lily.

Ginny laughed. "You mean there's another reason beside PMS?"

Harry smiled to cover up the prickling in his scar. It had been tingling uncomfortably all afternoon, since he'd arrived at the Ministry, and it hadn't gotten any better. In fact, if he thought about it, it was getting a little worse. He had hoped that once he'd arrived home and was with everyone again, he would be alright. But alas…

"So, Harry,' said Hermione suddenly. 'What have you been doing at the Ministry all this time?"

"Oh, er…you know…just hanging out."

"'_Just hanging out'_? Mate, come on!' laughed Ron, giving Harry a look. 'You'll have to do better than that."

Harry found them all watching him and he sighed, feeling there was no other way but to explain it all now. "Well, alright, if you nosy people _must_ know…I was talking with Augustus Rookwood."

"Rookwood?"

"The _Death Eater_?"

"Are you _insane_?"

"What if he tried to hurt you?"

"Okay, enough!' yelled Harry, putting everyone's shouted protests to rest. 'God, you'd think I'd just committed a criminal offence."

"Harry, honestly, what were you thinking?' bristled Lily, giving him a look. 'Its bad enough they try to kill you on a semi-regular basis, but to try and sit down with one of them and talk to them…my _God_, Harry, what were you hoping to gain? He certainly wouldn't cough up any information useful to you for defeating Voldemort."

"I wasn't after stuff about Voldemort.' He said through gritted teeth. 'I was after stuff for _you_."

Lily blinked, surprised. "For me?"

"Yes, for you. Rookwood was an Unspeakable. He worked down in the Department of Mysteries."

Lily sat back in her seat, looking at him in amazement. Remus was saying something to Harry, and Hermione was arguing with him about whatever it was in Harry's defense, but she didn't hear any of it. She was too shocked that Harry had gone to the trouble of actually talking to a Death Eater just to get information about how she had come back to life.

"What did he say?' she asked softly, cutting through the conversation.

Harry hesitated, wondering if he should discuss all he had learnt in present company.

Apparently sensing this, Ginny made to get up. "You want me to leave?"

"No, its fine. Stay.' He said, taking her hand and pulling her back into her seat. 'You can hear this, I trust you not to go blabbing it to the _Daily Prophet_.' He gave her a small smile and then turned back to his mother. "See, it's like this…'

And so he told them everything he had just learnt. Starting all the way from when he had dragged Rookwood into the interrogation room, to when they had sat down and talked, right up to when he left. He told them every small detail he could remember. About Merlin, about Stonehenge, about the Arch being a missing piece, and about the Unspeakables theory of its purpose. Of course, there was the odd interruption.

"Centuries old?"

"Merlin and Uther?

"_House Elves_?"

"Killed by _drapery_?"

"Will you let me _finish_?' cried Harry.

After they had finally stopped butting in and he had finished, he let them all sit there in a moment of stunned silence, allowing them the opportunity to soak in all he had explained properly. Ron was looking blissfully blank, Remus was looking thoughtful, Lily was looking dazed, Ginny was looking interested and Hermione looked as if she were constipated from the sheer speed the train of thought in her head was moving.

Of course, Hermione was the first to speak. "It's all just so… so _fascinating_! Of course, Muggle's have been fascinated with Stonehenge for centuries, and I've read books about stories of how it came to be, but I never would have suspected…would have guessed that…"

"You think he was telling the truth?' asked Ron seriously. 'He could have just been yanking your chain."

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't think so. He seemed sincere enough…for a Death Eater, that is. It all fits together with what we've already suspected for it to be lies. And besides, he'd have nothing to gain from lying to me about it anyway. He didn't know why I was asking."

"You said you heard whispers, Harry.' Said Ginny. 'Do you think then it could have been…_dead people_?"

"Who knows? Luna heard them too."

"Luna can see Thestrals like you can.' Said Ron. 'Maybe it's the same basic principle."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't remember Neville saying he heard anything, and he can see Thestrals. Then again he could have and just not told anyone…'

"What do you think of all this, Lily?' asked Remus softly.

Lily chewed thoughtfully on the inside of her cheek. "Well, it seems credible enough. It's more information than I've been able to turn up in those books I can tell you now. It makes sense that when Sirius died, I came back to life. It'd be too much of a coincidence if the two events really weren't connected, especially after all that Rookwood's said."

"I still don't understand how it worked.' Said Remus, frowning in thought.

"Maybe…when Sirius fell through…I don't know, maybe the two of us switched places? He was unexpected…' she trailed off, thinking back.

Harry considered her across the table. "You don't remember anything? Anything about your time between that night and now?"

Lily frowned, trying to concentrate. "Only in my dreams."

"The dreams you used to have at the Rehabilitation Centre?' asked Remus.

"Yeah. I used to have them all the time when I first got there, but then they started to become less frequent. I still get them every now and again, however. Once every few weeks or so."

"What were these dreams about?' asked Ginny.

Lily rubbed her eyes, trying to figure out how best to explain it. "They're very hard to put into words. Its more…feelings than anything else. Its like I'm floating, and this may sound silly… but I think its heaven I'm dreaming of."

"You dream of _heaven_?' asked Ron, looking amazed.

"I think that's what it is. And it's not the superficial Hollywood version of heaven either, where there's people walking around, chatting to one another, getting drunk and smoking like chimneys because it won't kill them. No one was in physical form. I knew there were others around me. I could _sense_ them more so than actually _see _them. There were a lot of different energies and presences around me. Glorious feelings of love and belonging – no bad feelings of fear or anger or anxiety. You just floated calmly in a warm existence."

Hermione smiled. "It sounds beautiful."

Lily nodded. "I was. I remember that. Such feelings of peace and content and wholesomeness…it would be overwhelming to any live person."

"Do you remember anything about how you could have come back down here?' asked Remus.

"Well…I'm not sure. The most recent one I had, I remember myself being there and there was this other person I could sense."

"See, I don't get this whole sensing thing.' Said Harry, putting his hand up as if in class.

Lily arched her eyebrows at him. "You? Who has a massive migraine whenever Voldemort goes down to the milk bar?"

Harry threw her a look. "That's different. How can you sense a familiarity like that?"

Lily sighed and smiled at him. "Close your eyes."

"What? What does that have to…"

"Just shut up and do it."

Harry sighed, gave her one last skeptical look and then shut his eyes.

"Now, just concentrate on everything around you. What do you feel in your immediate surroundings?' asked Lily. Everyone else was watching Harry in interest.

Harry frowned and sought out. "Well…I can feel the table in front of me."

"And what else?"

He pursed his lips and went silent for another moment. His eyes were moving under his eyelids as he tried to feel around him, before his expression softened. "I feel…Ginny."

Ginny blinked in surprise and looked at him, her cheeks flooding with colour. Lily smiled with satisfaction. "Does she feel familiar? Would you recognize her presence beside you? Even if you were standing in a pitch dark room?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I could."

"That's what it felt like for me.' said Lily as Harry opened his eyes again. 'I recognized the energy near me, and it recognized me. We clung to one another like lifelines. And, if I had to put a name to it, I'd say it was…'

"James." finished Remus, nodding with a smile.

Lily smiled at him. "Yes, exactly. At the time he didn't have a name – nothing did. But now that I'm here, here and alive…I know that's who it was. It was James. We were together all the time, he and I. We sought each other out, pushed aside other presences until we found one another, and then we wouldn't let one another go until…" she trailed off and frowned, looking off into space.

Harry made an impatient gesture with his hands. "What? Until what?"

"Well, I remember being with James, and then this new energy appeared. It was familiar too, _very_ familiar, so I reached out for it…but it didn't reach out for me. It knew me, I felt it respond. It was really strange, like it wanted to come to me, but something was stopping it."

"So, this new energy,' said Hermione cautiously, 'you don't think it could have been Sirius, do you?"

"I'm certain it was.' Said Lily, nodding.

"What happened after you sensed him then?' asked Remus. 'He didn't try to make contact with you at all? That doesn't sound like Sirius. If he could sense you like you say he could, he would have been with you like a shot. Both you _and_ James."

"I really don't know, I can't remember much else.' Said Lily. 'Do you think that maybe, because Sirius death was so sudden, not to mention the unique way it happened…I don't know, maybe he _pushed_ me out?"

Remus rubbed his hands together thoughtfully with a shrug of his shoulders. "In this situation, anything's possible. Maybe its not so much something Sirius did, but more because of The Arch and its connection between life and death. Maybe some magic worked to switch places between you. Or maybe Sirius did something – sacrificed his chance to live for you to be able to."

Lily nodded and propped her elbow up on the table, resting her chin in the heel of her hand. "Yeah…maybe…'

"At least you have a pretty good idea about it now.' Said Ron positively. 'It's much better than not knowing at all, isn't it?"

"I'd think it would be.' Agreed Hermione. 'It was a good idea to go see Rookwood, Harry. A foolish idea, but a good one nonetheless."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Thanks…I think."

Ginny laughed and sat back in her seat, folding her hands behind her head. "A missing rock from Stonehenge! Ha! Who'da thunk it?"

As their conversation continued about The Arch in a lighter matter, Harry still tuned it out as his scar began to throb painfully again. He lifted his hand and ran a finger along its lightning bolt shape softly, using the ploy that he was simply scratching his head to hide his discomfort. He felt very on edge now. Normally when the pain got like this, a vision would follow, or he would almost pass out from the mental invasion.

"What's wrong with you?"

Jumping out of his reverie, Harry looked up to see Hermione looking at him in concern. "What? Nothing wrong with me."

"Your scar's hurting, isn't it?' she said knowingly, arching an eyebrow.

"What are you, the Scar Watch police?' he asked, honestly astounded how she always seemed to be able to tell when his scar was hurting.

"Your scar's hurting?' said Lily suddenly, looking at him in alarm.

Harry felt like someone had switched on the spotlight again as everything went quiet and everyone looked at him. They were giving him that 'oh dear, is he about to go mental?' look, and he didn't know if he wanted to hide under the table or hit them all over the head with his spoon. "I'm fine, honestly!"

The just continued to look at him.

"Stop that!' he laughed.

"Harry, maybe you should go lay down for a bit.' Said Remus kindly. 'You've had a rough day today. Maybe have a shower…"

"I said I'm fine.' Snapped Harry.

"Your body odor says another thing, sweetie.' Said Ginny, giving his knee a pinch.

Harry's eyebrows rose. He looked over at Ron and Hermione, who nodded sadly in confirmation that Ginny was in fact not making a sarcastic crack.

"You don't look too well, Harry.' Said Lily, frowning at him. 'Are you feeling alright?"

"How many times do I have to say I'm fine?"

"Are you tired?' asked Hermione.

Harry rolled his eyes wondering when how he'd become a contestant on The Real World with everyone wanting to know his business.

Ginny looked at him, leaning into his personal space. "No, you're not tired. You're upset."

Harry blinked and looked at her. "Upset? You're darn right I'm upset. I get twenty bloody questions when I get home…"

"Not about that,' she said. 'About today. You're feeling it, aren't you?"

"Feeling what?"

"The pressure.' She said kindly, yet firmly. 'We lost three muggles today…three innocent muggles. It's okay to feel upset about that."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Said Harry quickly, adverting his eyes.

Ginny paused. "It wasn't your fault, you know."

"Wasn't it?' he cried, giving her a look.

"No, Harry, it wasn't.' said Remus insistently. 'It was the Death Eaters. They're the ones who were responsible for it, not you. You helped stop them, remember?"

"They wouldn't have gone after anyone if it wasn't for me.' said Harry, giving them all a stubborn look. 'Voldemort wouldn't have sent them out if he wasn't trying to get to me. Those people wouldn't have died if…if I wasn't…'

Harry bowed his head, running his hands through his hair as he felt the built up guilt of the day finally come flooding out. He'd been running on adrenaline for hours, focusing only on what had to be done in that second and not even taking a moment to process the events of the day. But now that he was home, sitting down amongst his family with nothing else to focus on, it was swallowing him whole. Those muggles suffered for the simple purpose of Voldemort wanting to tell Harry that he was still out there. To taunt Harry. To show him that Voldemort could still do whatever and destroy whoever he wanted. Those muggles had died today from the Killing Curse, point blank. What were their families going to be told? How would they go on with the knowledge that their loved ones would never come home from work again, all because of some boy not getting there in time?

"Harry, don't beat yourself up about this.' Said Ron softly. 'There was nothing you could have done. The Death Eaters were too quick."

"You're wrong.' Said Harry, shaking his head. 'There is something I can do."

"Harry, please…' started Hermione.

But she didn't finish. Harry stood up quickly, hesitated and then announced 'I'm going to have a shower.' He walked around the table in silence, feeling the stares of everyone at the table like he was on some sort of death march. He didn't want to look at anyone. He just wanted to get into the shower and rinse off all the evidence of the day.

But he only got half way there, before dropping to his knees and clutching his scar, screaming in pain.

"_HARRY_!" screamed Lily, leaping to her feet.

Everyone hurried over to him, Remus and Ginny literally leaping onto to the table and jumping over the other side to get to him. Harry was bent over, his hands covering his scar as he howled in pain, his eyes clamped shut and his body breaking out in a sweat.

"Give him room!' yelled Ron, keeping everyone back. No one contradicted him, and not just because of his sudden commanding manner, but because he was the person who had had the most experience with Harry's attacks over the years and knew best how to handle them.

Harry clenched his jaw, trying desperately to keep from crying out. It was excruciating, plain and simple. Images flashed through his mind, memories of his time at Privet Drive, his detentions with Professor Umbridge, rescuing Sirius from Flitwick's office with Hermione and Buckbeak, and he tried with all his might to push the film watcher out of his mind….

"Harry? Harry, fight it!' urged Hermione, trying to fight past Ron to get to him. 'Clear your head, Harry!"

But Harry seemed not to have heard her. He continued to scream, the tips of his fingers white as he pressed his hands harder against this forehead. Tears were running down his cheeks as his knees buckled and he slumped to the floor.

"No, just wait!' yelled Ron, now physically having to hold Hermione around the middle to keep her back while Remus had Lily by the arm. 'We can't do anything for…Ginny, _wait_!"

Out of nowhere, Ginny shoved Ron's arm out of the way as she barged past. She dropped to her knees in front of Harry, took his face in her hands and lifted it up so she could look at him.

"Harry open your eyes.' She cried over his screams. 'Harry, look at me!'

Harry was shaking his head, sobbing with the pain.

"Harry, _look_ at me, _dammit_!" said Ginny, her tone insistent and desperate at the same time.

After what seemed an eternity, Harry clenched his jaw and, like ripping apart two powerful magnets, dragged his eyelids open and focused his blurry eyes on Ginny's face.

And the pain stopped.

Harry let out a gasp of relief as the piercing hot pain faded alarmingly fast, as if being sucked right out of him. He just looked at Ginny, looking into her distressed face, feeling her cool hands against his hot sweaty skin, feeling his heart pound as he panted, trying to draw in slow deep breaths.

Lily shoved Remus away and bent down beside her son. "Harry? Sweetheart, you alright?"

Harry nodded but kept his eyes on Ginny. She stroked his face, running her fingers through his sweaty bangs. "Just breathe, you're alright now. You're safe.' She murmured, soothing him.

He could feel it coming, like a freight train out of control. He tried with all his might to cut it off, but before he knew what was happening his bottom lip was trembling, and his eyes were welling up, and he was reaching out for Ginny and pulling her close, burying his face in her shoulder and clinging onto her like a lifeline. She didn't push him away in awkwardness; she wrapped one arm around his shoulders, cradling his head with her other hand and whispering to him, saying the most reassuring things. He felt another hand on his back, heard his mother soothing him beside him. He heard Ron moving around behind him, felt Hermione bend down beside him, saw Remus stand behind Lily in the corner of his eye and knew that he would be alright. Knew that his guilt, though deeply imbedded, would soon lessen with time. Knew that Voldemort wouldn't try getting to him again anytime soon.

At least not mentally.

-------------

A/N – Well, long yeah? That legend of Stonehenge is an actual legend I read on the internet. I can't remember the exact site, but if you google it I'm sure you'll find it! It just fit so well! I made most of it up, of course, with the Arch and stuff. Anyway, let me know your fave part!

Please review!


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20! Now we get to have some fun.

* * *

"I'm not going."

Lily rolled her eyes, her application of lipstick not ceasing at all at this sudden proclamation from the room across the hall. "The hell you aren't!"

"I'm not, I mean it. Just owl them and tell them I'm in bed sick or something."

"Stop being such a martyr.' she called, moving her head so she could look at her hair from different angles in the vanity mirror she was seated in front of.

"No, martyr is when you're deliberately being silly. Me? I'd like to think my whining has a good reason."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Like _that_ would ever happen.' She muttered.

"I don't know, maybe I have a phobia of fancy affairs.' He continued, his tone now sounding less hysterical. 'I didn't really look forward to the Yule Ball either. I bet they do studies on it, you know, people like me who are afraid of spiffy get-togethers – Extravagantaphobia is what they call it."

"If only all this knowledge was actually useful.' Called Lily, getting to her feet.

"It'll be very useful when you write your letter of apology explaining why I'm not coming.' There was a pause, and heavy footfalls approached. A moment later, Harry walked into her bedroom, dressed in his black suit with his fingers fiddling with his untied tie. 'They'll buy into it. It goes hand in hand with Agoraphobia, Suitaphobia, Danceaphobia…'

"…Relaxaphobia?' offered Lily, putting her earings in.

Harry looked up from his tie and smiled. "Cute. Hey, you look really nice."

Lily laughed and slung her necklace around her neck to do up. "You sound surprised to discover such an outrageous fact."

"No, that's not what I meant."

He took a moment to look at her as she went to fetch her shoes. She wasn't dressed up to the eyeballs, but she did look dressier than he'd ever seen her. Her hair was up, allowing few strands of blood red hair to fall down and frame her face. She was wearing an emerald green dress that fell to just below her knees with spaghetti straps to show off her collarbones. She'd done her make-up, sprayed perfume, put in her fancy earrings and, quite simply looked very pretty indeed. He'd always known his mother to be beautiful, even before he'd ever learnt what she really looked like, but seeing her before him now, looking for her shoes was a million times better than staring at her wedding photo for hours.

"I really don't see your hesitation to go anyway.' She said, sitting down at the edge of her bed with her shoes. 'This is what we've been looking forward to for ages. What you've been looking forward to for months!"

"I've never been to a wedding before.' He muttered, going back to his tie. 'I don't know the proper protocol."

"Well, as long as you don't pick your nose, enlarge the bogey, fling it at the bride and then streak down the aisle singing 'Bohemian Rhapsody' I think you'll be fine.' She laughed, slipping one shoe on and bending over to do up the straps.

Harry threw her a look. "I'll try to contain that urge." He said, deadpan.

Lily smiled and slipped on her other shoe. "Seriously, what's the matter? You were all excited last week."

"Yeah, well, last week I didn't collapse from my head splitting open from the scar outward.' Sighed Harry, rubbing his scar with memory of the pain.

Lily looked up from her shoe, sitting up properly as she saw the ashamed expression on his face. She frowned, for once actually seeing right through him. "Is _that_ what this is about? How you and Ginny…'

"I really don't want to think about it, okay?' he said, turning away from her with an embarrassed huff. He folded his arms over his chest, taking the end of his tie in one hand and fiddling with it to let the moment of awkwardness pass. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and looked into space, knowing that if he didn't say what he wanted to say he would burst. 'It's not the fact that I don't _want_ to see her, it's just that I know she'll be there, and I'll have to talk to her, and I'm…I'm just…'

"Embarrassed?'

Harry bowed his head and nodded.

Lily got to her feet and went to him. Taking him by the shoulders, she turned him around to face her, her heels now making her eye level with him. "Harry, you have nothing to be ashamed about. And with Ginny, of _all_ people…'

"That's precisely the point.' He urged. 'It was Ginny! Ginny, who I'm meant to be broken up with. Who I'm meant to be keeping a distance from. Its like no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to keep away from her. It used to be so easy, but now, after everything…' he trailed off and ran a hand through his unruly mop of hair. 'I just don't want her to see me like that. Ever.'

"I'm sure she's seen worse."

Harry threw his arms up and sighed. "I don't want to go, alright? I don't want to have to see her, and know what she thinks of me."

"And what does she think of you?"

"That I'm a wuss."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Harry, my dear, you are the farthest thing from a wuss. And I know that Ginny would never think of you in such a way, even if you were one."

"Yeah, because my collapsing, screaming and crying all over her like a sissy girl would have really helped her see the masculinity in me.' He sighed and flipped the end of his tie hopelessly. 'I'm an embarrassment to the male race. I should just curl up under my bed and die."

Lily sighed and patted his chests with her hands. "Harry, I love you and I really do feel for your over-dramatic adolescent situation. But we're going to a wedding, and I'd like to show up with Happy Harry on my arm, not Emo Harry."

Harry blinked and watched blankly as she kissed him on the cheek and went back over to her vanity table to pack up her cosmetics. To some people, her comment would have seemed harsh and uncaring for his feelings or his predicament. But he knew her better than that, and knew that underneath her sarcasm she really did care. That she was saying in her own unique way that he shouldn't get bogged down in his insecurities, but try and focus on something else.

"Well it doesn't really matter anyway,' he said, going back to his tie, 'because I'm not going."

"Yes you most certainly are young man.' Said Lily, giving him a look. 'I'm not going alone. I'll look like a buffoon, showing up without a date."

"Well, then, I'll know where I get that genetic strain from, wont I? And why wont this damn tie _tie_?" he cried, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Lily laughed. "Here, hold still. Let me show you…"

Harry slouched, let her take his hands and put them down by his side, lifting his chin up to allow her more room to see. She adjusted the lengths of the tie, then proceeded to tie it up properly, explaining each step she took for him.

"Now, this is what we call a Windsor Knot. See, you cross them like this, then bring the wide end up through the loop like this, then pull the wide end underneath the narrow end and to the right, back through the loop and then to the right again…"

"How is it you know how to do this without magic?' he asked, fascinated.

Lily smiled, feeding the wide end through again. "When I was little I'd watch my mother doing my father's tie up for him. He was completely hopeless at it, yet she could get it right every time. I'd memorized every step by the time I was eight, and then I started doing it once mum went back to work. Every time he went away on a business trip I'd do his tie. It was something I missed once I started going to Hogwarts.' She said, having a solemn moment. She seemed to zone out for a moment, before shaking herself and pushing the tie up to finish. 'And you're done! Have a look at my stupendous work."

Harry looked around at the mirror and smirked, impressed that now he looked relatively respectable. "Great, thanks. Now if only I could do something with my hair…'

"Let's not be too ambitious.' She giggled, smoothing out the collar of his jacket. 'I just don't understand how any man can never learn how to do his own tie. Especially when they have magic to do it for them."

"I've seen Mr. Weasley do his tie with magic a few times, but I never had the sense to learn how for myself.' Shrugged Harry. 'Besides, why should we bother to learn when girls are so much better at it anyway?"

Lily laughed. "See, now _this_ is the Harry we all want to see. Go get your wand, Junior, we're out of here as soon as I get my shawl."

------------------

The day couldn't have been more perfect. Blue skies, warm sun, great company…it was as if someone had actually bewitched the weather to make it so wonderful.

Harry blew air through his lips as he watched people stream into the church from the other side of the road. It was easy to see who belonged to which family. The Weasley's all seemed to have a universal taste in clothes. Bright, happy coloured robes like orange and green and blue, while The Delacour's had a lower key colour combination, sticking with their pale blues and whites and tans. Not to mention the distinct differences between red and silver hair. He could see Mr. Weasley at the open doors, shaking hands of people and greeting them as they entered. He could see Mrs. Weasley, bustling around after people, looking rather harassed. He could see Remus with Tonks (who had nice, simple black hair for the occasion), could see Charlie at the door, beaming with pride and dressed immaculately in his dress robes, Professor McGonagall and Mad-eye, chatting to one another at the base of the stairs, Kingsley and Hermione's father talking; it was all so normal, and Harry couldn't help but allow a little smile.

Lily sighed happily and pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. "What an amazingly large group of good looking people. Especially on the frog-eater side."

Harry snorted. "I don't think you can call them frog-eaters."

"Snail eaters then?"

"Perhaps you could just call them the French people. Ever considered that?"

Lily smiled and nodded. "Good point. I don't think I'd like to have them calling us 'Spotted-dick eaters' in retaliation."

"Wouldn't matter much if they did, we don't speak French, so we wouldn't understand them anyway."

"Are you sure I'm not going to get busted here today?' she asked.

Harry looked down at her to see her biting her lip anxiously. "No, I shouldn't think so. People know who you are by history, but they won't recognize you by face. They'll probably just take you for a friend of mine, or a relative of The Weasleys. Just use a different name like we suggested and you'll be fine."

Reassured, she slipped her arm through his and the two of them crossed the road together. As he neared, the happiness and joy of the day seemed to seep into Harry with an almost overpowering force, and he couldn't help but grin and want to shake hands with people he hardly knew for any reason at all. His plan was to sneak through the crowd with Lily as quickly a possible to get inside and get a good seat, but alas…

"Ah, Harry Potter! Move aside…excusez moi…'

Harry smiled awkwardly as Mrs. Weasley pushed her way through the crowd and threw her arms around the two Potters, pulling them into a hug almost as big as her smile. Harry noticed over her shoulder that many of the people had turned around at the sound of Harry's name, quite forgetting where they are and what they were doing, craning their necks to get a look of him.

"Harry, Lily, wonderful that you could make it!" beamed Mrs. Weasley, giving the both of them a warm smile.

Lily laughed and adjusted her shawl again. "If that's the welcome we get, we should have fancy affairs more often. Considering, of course, that Harry doesn't have another Extravagantaphobia episode again before we leave."

Mrs. Weasley looked at Harry. "What's she talking about? What's wrong with you now?"

"Don't mind her; she forgot to take her medication this morning.' Said Harry, giving his mother a look.

"Well you both look wonderful, medicated or not.' Beamed Mrs. Weasley, giving them a hug again.

"As are you.' Said Lily, running a hand over the sleeve of Mrs. Weasley's dark blue dress. 'How are you feeling this afternoon? Nervous? Complacent? Psychotic?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "All of the above. Honestly, I don't know how Arthur is so calm about all this…or Bill for that matter. The boy's getting married in just a matter of minutes, and yet he's walking around as if he's just gotten up out of bed. Emotionally speaking, of course, not physically."

"You're not still bitter about his hair, are you?' grinned Harry.

"It's my life's pursuit.' Said Mrs. Weasley stubbornly.

"Oh, Molly, let it go.' Said Lily, rolling her eyes.

"Never.' Said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes blazing with determination. 'I really don't know what's getting into these children of mine. First Bill with his hair and that dreadful earring, then Charlie and that tattoo…next thing you know, Ron with have a ring through his eyebrow and Ginny will have a tattoo on her back!"

Harry kept silent, finding it best not to comment.

Mrs. Weasley smiled and waved her hands dismissively. "Well, enough of me, you two head on inside and find yourself a seat. We'll be starting soon, and I need to find that daughter of mine and give her her shoes."

Lily giggled as the Weasley matriarch bustled off again in a whirl of blue robes and red hair. "At least you and Ginny could join a biker gang together, what with both of you sporting wonderfully discreet tattoos."

Harry threw her another look and led her up the stairs.

They met up with Mr. Weasley and Charlie briefly at the doorway, taking a moment to say their hellos' before being ushered into the entrance hall of the church. Even before they had entered the main ceremony hall, Harry knew the church was going to be enormous, elaborate and very old and Victorian. And sure enough, as soon as the two of them entered the main all, Harry felt the inevitable feeling of inferiority set in.

Lily let out a low whistle beside him, her eyes taking in everything of the hall. "Whoa…ten points for subtlety."

Harry snorted and took a good look around. The only real way to describe it was a muggle, religious version of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The walls were a pale marble, making the whole room glow in a nice warm light. Stained glass windows lined the sides of the hall, depicting pictures of holy people and other stories of people throughout history. The aisle seemed a mile long, and it was framed with two rows of seating on either side. People were taking their seats, red-heads on one side, blondes on the other. Up at the alter stood Bill, his hair back in its usual ponytail, clean shaven (he'd been on the verge of growing a small beard) and his fang earring replaced with just a plain stud. Charlie was beside him, his short red hair spiked up into the latest style and muttering something to Bill as he leant in close. Harry could tell, even from the distance that Bill looked very happy, and Charlie looked very happy for him.

Lily pulled away from him, bringing him back to the present. "Go find a seat; I'm going to talk with Remus for a moment."

Harry nodded and watched her go, before making his way up toward the first couple of rows of seats and plopping down in-between Ron and Hermione.

"Oh, Harry!' cried Hermione, jumping in surprise.

Ron laughed and picked up the dropped Bible Hermione had been reading from the floor. "Good to know you're constantly switched on for any attack. You know, expecting the unexpected and all."

Hermione glared at him and snatched back the Bible.

"I didn't mean to scare you.' Said Harry suppressing a grin.

"You didn't scare me,' she muttered, 'you just…startled me."

"Yeah, okay.' Chuckled Harry, adjusting his glasses.

"Where'd you get the suit?' asked Ron, examining Harry's front in a way that reminded Harry of Mr. Weasley discovering the ATM machine. 'It's so very…_clean_."

"And shiny, I gather, by the way your eyes are bulging at it.' Said Harry, closing the opening of his jacket self consciously.

"Perhaps he just likes staring at your tie.' Said Hermione, looking over the middle pages of the Bible.

Harry elbowed her playfully. "Mum took me to get it ages ago. Said something about black being my colour. Besides, it's not like you're not wearing a nice suit of your own."

Indeed, both his best friends looked particularly nice. Ron, like Harry, had a pitch black suit on, white shirt and black tie, with the dark blue dress robes the twins had bought him covering them. Hermione was wearing a nice white summer dress, the same style as Harry's mothers with pale yellow flower prints on it. Her hair was out and actually dead straight, and she was sitting there, one leg crossed over the other and back straight as if she dressed up like this all the time. Ron, however, kept fiddling with his tie and the ends of his cuffs, obviously very uncomfortable with being so immaculately dressed.

"Yeah, well, I'm hanging out for the reception.' Muttered Ron, sitting back in his seat and running a hand through his hair. 'Then I can get out of these dress robes."

"At least they're a mark improvement to the dress you wore three years ago.' Said Harry.

Ron smiled. "Tell me about it."

Hermione let out a happy sigh. "Fascinating."

"You're not meant to _agree_.' Snapped Ron irritably. 'Those dress robes were terrible!"

"What? No, not that.' Said Hermione, waving a hand impatiently. 'This! In the Bible, it says that God has no tolerance for witchcraft, and yet here we are, living proof that it exists."

Harry frowned. "Why create it then if he doesn't like it?"

Hermione shrugged. "The lord moves in mysterious ways."

"Huh,' said Ron, smiling, 'not a good dancer then either, is he?"

"No, you cretin, it's an expression.' Said Hermione, leaning over Harry to reprimand Ron.

"It still baffles me how you can still find something to read at a _wedding,_ for Merlin's sake.' Said Ron, shaking his head.

Harry arched an eyebrow at him. "It _still_ baffles you?"

"You know what? I don't need this criticism.' Said Hermione, sitting up straight as Harry and Ron laughed softly. 'Especially not from you two."

"Well, answer me this: Why are Bill and Fleur getting married in a muggle church if magic is intolerable by muggle religion?' asked Harry, looking at Hermione. 'Aren't we all paranoid lighting will strike and singe our eyebrows off?"

Ron laughed. "Yeah, we might be…if this were a real muggle church."

"It's actually a Wizarding Ceremonial Hall.' Said Hermione at Harry's baffled look. 'To lessen exposure, it just poses as a muggle church for most of the time until wizards want to use it. Muggles have no idea that their 'sacred place' really isn't all that sacred. Personally, I think a few Catholics would have a seizure if they knew what this place was really used for."

"Are your parents Catholic?' asked Harry.

Hermione laughed. "Heavens no."

"Lucky for you then.' Smiled Ron.

Their conversation was suddenly cut off by the sound of music starting up. The chatter in the hall fell dead, all standing people seated, and all heads turned around to the doors in excited anticipation. Harry craned his neck, trying to see past everyone's heads as the large oak doors opened and little Gabrielle Delacour walked in.

Like her big sister, she could only be described as beautiful…despite the fact that she was only eleven. It had been three years since he'd pulled her out of the lake at Hogwarts, and now Harry could definitely see more of Fleur in her. Her hair was long and silvery and flowed over her shoulders like silk. Her face was still youthful and childlike, but still very pretty. Her gold dress flowed out behind her and she carried herself well, obviously having amazing confidence for a girl her age. She slowly made her way up the aisle, smiling at people on her journey, before taking her spot at the alter opposite Bill. Harry only had a moment to consider this scene, before turning around again and looking back at the doors.

And in walked Ginny.

Harry felt his stomach clench, and he was very grateful that Ron wasn't look at him to see the expression on his face. If he thought Gabrielle was pretty, it was nothing compared to what he thought of Ginny. Her hair was hanging down over her shoulders, her flaming red hair framing that gorgeous face of hers. Her brown eyes were wide and alert, and she was beaming at everyone as she slowly made her way up the aisle. Her gold dress hugged her curves and looked amazing on her. She walked upright, tall, confident, graceful, and Harry felt another wave of warm fuzzies wash over him.

She passed by their bench, but she didn't look. Her attention now was on taking her position up near the alter. He didn't feel offended, just very determined not to take his eyes off her.

"Harry! Harry, get up!"

Harry blinked, feeling dopey as he felt Ron stand up on one side and Hermione grab his arm, trying to pull him up on his other. "Wha…?"

"You have to stand up.' Whispered Hermione, pulling him to his feet. 'For Fleur."

"Oh, yeah…right.' Said Harry, remembering that _Fleur_ was getting married.

There was that collective RUSTLE as everyone got to her feet. The music changed again, and after a moment's pause, Fleur walked in on the arm of a very handsome man who had to be her father. Had he not been so distracted, Harry would have taken more notice of how exquisitely beautiful Fleur was looking, and how nice her dress was, and how Mrs. Weasley was sobbing into Mr. Weasley's shoulder…but all he could think about was how good Ginny had looked in her dress.

Harry watched in a sort of daze as Fleur passed them by and met up with Bill at the top of the alter. The music died, and Harry let Hermione shove him back down into his seat. The old, rather tall High Priest got up, beamed at Bill and Fleur and began his sermon.

"Family and friends, we are joined here today to celebrate the joining of these two remarkable people in the sacred ties of marriage. Bonds such as these, in times such as these, should be treasured and celebrated…'

Harry tuned out the rest, settling back in his chair to watch the second bridesmaid. Ginny was listening intently, clutching her bouquet of flowers gingerly and sharing the occasional smile with Charlie or Bill every few moments. She was glowing, and Harry had to try very hard to keep the goofy smile off his face. It was times like this, when she was being so natural and wonderful, that he'd forget his silent oath to stay away from her and try to suppress the feelings he had for her, lest Voldemort find out about them, that he would totally surrender himself to the moment and just enjoy looking at her.

As if sensing eyes on her, Ginny quietly looked away from the bride and groom and peered out into the sea of guests out of the corner of her eye. She saw her mother, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief and her father, beaming with pride beside her. She saw George and Fred, both actually sitting rather still for once and listening intently to the ceremony. She saw Ron, fidgeting with his collar while trying to pay attention, she saw Harry watching her, she saw Hermione, hands folded in her lap and listening with her usual unbreakable concentration…

Ginny did a double take and looked back at Harry.

He blinked and blushed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat at having been found out. He looked down at his lap, and Ginny could tell that he was trying very hard not to look up at her again. She just watched him, waiting, knowing he would soon succumb to temptation… and sure enough, moments later his beautifully bright, emerald eyes rose up again and locked with hers. This time, he didn't look away. Ginny smiled at him, arching one amber eyebrow suggestively. Harry smiled back, exposing his teeth and gave her a playful wink.

Satisfied that both their urges had been quenched, both of them focused back in on the wedding, feeling much more elated than they had been only minutes ago.

--------------

Harry sipped on his glass of Butterbeer as he watched Bill and Fleur dance. The newlyweds were swaying away, alone in the middle of a circle of onlookers who were applauding with the music. The couple had their cheeks pressed together, huge smiles on their faces and not a care in the word as they moved together, hands clasped. It was a nice, peaceful sight, and Harry felt calmer just watching them.

Ron came over to stand beside him and sighed with relief as he loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. "Thank god for receptions, eh? Everyone's too sloshed to care if you look disheveled."

"I didn't think your mum was drinking.' Said Harry, looking at Mrs. Weasley in the crowd. She was standing right on the edge of the circle, beaming at her son and new daughter-in-law with an arm around her own husband.

"Not yet she isn't.' muttered Ron with a grin, taking his jacket off.

Harry laughed as Ron hung his jacket over the back of a nearby chair, untucked his shirt, rolled his sleeves up to just below the elbow and ruffled his hair. "You right there? Should I get you a room?"

Ron smiled and thumped him in the arm. "Just cause you're still dressed up to the eyeballs…'

"I like this suit.' Said Harry, running a hand over the front of his jacket. 'I like the way I look in it."

"You like the way Ginny likes the way you look in it.' Said Ron, arching an eyebrow.

Harry smiled and looked back out at the reception party. "Yeah, that too."

The reception was, conveniently enough, being held in one of the back paddocks of The Burrow. Its usual disheveled mess had been transformed utterly into a beautiful backyard setting. The lawn had been mowed; brush had been cleaned up at the blackberry bushes had been pulled out. Fairy lights were hung up in the trees, tables had been set up, and musical instruments were playing off to the side without anyone playing them. Apparently, as Harry had been told, the wedding had been divided between the two families in terms of organizing. Fleur's family had been given the actual wedding to organize, while the Weasley's were put in charge of the reception. It certainly made sense why the wedding had been so fancy, and why the reception was so easy going and relaxed. Twilight was passing over them like a veiled blanket, and the warm air of the day had not yet left them. The night was turning out to be even better that the day in its wake.

Lily and Tonks made their way over, arms linked and laughing their heads off about something. "Oh, Ron, couldn't take the suffering anymore, I see.' Giggled Lily, tugging on Ron's tie playfully.

"I was being strangled.' Said Ron, fiddling with his collar.

"Excuse me,' said Tonks, taking the Butterbeer bottle out of Harry's hand, 'should you be drinking this young man?"

"It's a wedding! Lighten up, will you?' said Harry, snatching the bottle back.

Tonks blinked and looked at Lily, laughing. "Are you going just going to stand there and let your son drink alcohol like this?"

Lily, who had been picking food off the long table behind Harry and Ron, looked around at Tonks with a celery stick protruding from her mouth. "Of course I am, considering he shares some with me that is."

Harry laughed and offered her his bottle.

"I wish _my_ mum was as cool as you.' Said Tonks, looking at Lily wistfully as the redhead downed a mouthful of drink. 'She _still_ has kittens whenever I have a sip of Meade in front of her. 'You shouldn't be drinking that stuff!' she says. Crazy ninny, she is."

"Must be a family trait.' Said Ron. 'Mum's mental like that too."

"So we've come to learn.' Said Lily, handing Harry his bottle back. 'You two keep out of trouble over here, okay?'

"As always.' Grinned Harry.

Lily laughed, patted Harry and Ron on the cheek, and she and Tonks went off again together.

Harry smiled after her. "It's good to see her with friends. Especially ones that aren't Remus."

"Well, you couldn't keep her to yourself forever.' Said Ron, grabbing a handful of chocolate frogs from the table behind them.

"No, sadly, I couldn't.' said Harry.

Ron smiled slyly as another red-head approached. "This one you can though."

Harry thumped Ron quickly as Ginny made her way over, her cheeks pink from dancing and a large grin on her face. "Don't tell me you two are going to just sit here on the sidelines of all this wonderful excitement _again._ I would have thought you'd developed a bit more confidence since you were fourteen."

"I don't like dancing.' Muttered Ron, looking out into the crowd at someone, Harry guessed, specific.

Ginny rolled her eyes and smiled at Harry. "What about you? Seat-warmer or Bump-and-Grinder?"

Harry cleared his throat, trying to look at Ginny's face. "Er…I think I should stay here and keep Ron company."

"Last I checked, Ron didn't need a babysitter. But then again, last time I checked he was seven, so that may have changed…'

"Shut up, will you?' snapped Ron, poking Ginny in the arm. 'Just because your bridesmaid and all special, doesn't mean you can come over here and insult our integrity."

"Should I go over there and do it then?'

Harry laughed as Ron, who looked ready to slug his sister some more, seemed to flush deep red and straighten up as Hermione made her way over, hair tossed over her shoulder and wine glass in hand.

"What are you three on about now?' she laughed, taking in the scene.

"These pathetic little field mice won't come and dance.' Said Ginny, looking insulted. 'You're of age now…cast a spell on them or something. I would, but I don't wish to be expelled just yet."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Ron. "You're not dancing? At your own brother's wedding?"

Ron shrugged, his ears going red.

Harry could barely contain his grin at the uncomfortable silence that fell between his two best friends. Hermione was looking rather disappointed, and Ron looked so red he looked ready to explode. Normally Harry would step in and take charge of these increasingly recent silences, but for tonight he decided he'd just let them stew and see what actually became of it.

"Ginny?"

The four looked around as Gabrielle Delacour appeared beside Ginny, smiling bashfully at the others in greeting. "Oh, hey Gabrielle. What can I do for you?' smiled Ginny.

"Fleur was just wondering if you could pozzibly be taking some photographs of 'er and Bill by ze pond. As you are knowing 'ow to use ze camera and all.' Said Gabrielle, giggling.

"Oh, yeah, that's right. Here, take these, my feet are killing me.' Said Ginny, taking her shoes off and handing them to Harry. 'Tell her I'll be there in just a second, okay?"

"Okay, I will do that. 'Ello, 'Arry Potter. It iz wonderful to be seeing you again.' Added Gabrielle, shaking Harry's hand with a smile.

Harry smiled. "Yeah, you too. Has Fleur been teaching you English?"

Gabrielle nodded. "Yes, she thought it appropriate zat I learn, just for ze wedding and reception. 'Ello, Ron."

Ron shook Gabrielle's hand. "Gabrielle, you did a smashing job up there today."

"Ah, you are too kind.' Giggled Gabrielle. 'I am just glad zat they are getting married! It is such wonderful news, no?"

"No. I mean, yes! Yes, it is good news.' Said Ron awkwardly.

"Well, I must be off. And it was wonderful to be meeting you, 'Ermione.' Smiled Gabrielle.

Hermione smiled at her. "You too, Gabrielle."

"Not much like Fleur, is she?' commented Harry as Gabrielle walked off.

"I suppose it comes with age.' Said Hermione. 'I doubt Fleur was as wonderfully articulate about her shallow opinions at the age of eleven."

Ron snorted. "No you don't."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Well, no, I don't suppose I do."

Ginny laughed. "Excuse me, wont you? I have to be taking 'ze pictures', after all."

Harry tilted his head to the side and took a good look at her backside as she walked off, but was soon brought out of his trance by the sound of Hermione's voice.

"…won't have you two missing out again. This isn't the Yule Ball, you know. You don't have to dance with girls you don't like."

"What if I don't like any girls here?' said Ron, arching his eyebrows in immature defiance.

"Then you're a flaming imbecile, aren't you?' retorted Hermione flatly, taking another sip of her wine. 'Honestly, one would think you're being subjected to three weeks in the stocks from the way you're behaving."

"Well not all of us can get jiggy with it like you, Hermione.' Said Harry, putting Ginny's shoes on the chair with Ron's jacket.

"So am I to understand that _neither_ of you are going to dance with me tonight?' said Hermione, looking actually quite offended.

Harry rolled his eyes, put his bottle down and took the wineglass out of her hand. "Come on then, you old nag, if it will shut you up…"

Hermione grinned and grabbed Harry's hand. "Thank you, Harry. Nice to know _someone_ is brave enough to take a chance out there."

And before Ron could even mutter one syllable of indignation, Hermione had dragged Harry off to the dance area.

---------------

Lily smiled to herself as she rolled the neck of her wineglass between her fingers, looking out into the crowd where her son was currently dancing with Hermione's mother, Jane. Over the course of the past fifteen minutes, he'd changed partners so often it was like the women were playing 'Pass the Parcel' with him. They were all apparently under the assumption that if they let Harry sit down, they wouldn't get him up again. A very right assumption to be under, she felt.

But if he was looking tired, he didn't show it. He was dancing with Jane like Lily had taught him, back straight, hands in the right position and as little fancy movement as possible. He looked to be telling her a lot of funny jokes, for she was always cracking up in a fit of giggles, or rolling her eyes with a big grin on her face. It pleased Lily to see Harry having fun outside of the house. To see him smiling and talking and enjoying himself. It was good he could take his mind off all the work he'd been pouring over the past few days. So often he would lock himself away, obsessing over charms and spells and potions and Horcruxes and God-knows what else; she was glad he was spending a few hours just enjoying himself away from it all.

Personally, Lily liked big get-togethers like this. She liked the social atmosphere. She liked to mingle, and gossip, and chat, and laugh, and it was something she had been craving for weeks. While she was exposed to a wide range of people now, more than she had been at the beginning, it still felt a little claustrophobic. She'd always been surrounded by people and always thrived on it. Being here, now, even though she knew barely anyone was one of the best nights since coming back. Harry had been right; there had been no exposure risk all day. The Delacours took her for one of the Weasleys, and the Weasley's just took her for a friend of Bill's from work. The only people who knew of her real identity were members of The Order, and none of them had slipped up once.

She looked back at Harry again, finding herself enjoying this rare opportunity to see how he reacted in large social settings such as these. He didn't seem to enjoy them as much as she did – probably an effect of his enclosed, suppressed childhood. He was polite, talkative and charming, but only in small groups. He didn't mind being there, but would have obviously have preferred to be sitting in a corner somewhere, looking out.

Having enough of sitting on the sidelines, Lily put her glass down and made her way through the maze of dancing couples over to Harry. She tapped Jane on the shoulder and smiled at them both.

"Mind if I cut in?"

"No, not at all!' laughed Jane, stepping away from Harry. 'Thank you for the dance, Harry."

Harry smiled. "No problem, Mrs. Granger.' He looked down at his mother as Mrs. Granger walked off, taking her hand in his and putting his other hand on her waist. 'Aren't _men _supposed to be the ones to cut in?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Oh please, what year is this? We're not classic Victorians you know. Besides, I was becoming quite sick of you dancing with all these other women and not finding the time to dance with your own mother."

"_They_ were dancing with _me_! Its like Hermione opened the floodgates, or something."

"Floodgates I see that Ginny has yet to pass through."

Harry sighed. "Will you just shut up?"

"Sorry, I'm a woman…not possible.' She smiled. 'Is it that difficult? All you have to do is ask her."

Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully and, without really meaning to, searched for that familiar bob of long red hair in the crowd of guests (something that was very difficult tonight, considering half the party consisted of redheads). After a moment of scanning he found her, weaving her way through the congregation of people near the bridal table to get to Bill on the other side. Harry watched in interest as she took Bill's hands, leant up and whispered something in his ear. He grinned and nodded, and Ginny threw her arms around him in a hug and then ran off again towards the house.

"What's she up to?' he thought out loud.

"What's who up to?' asked Lily.

Harry blinked. "Oh, er…no-one."

Lily sighed. "Are you seeing imaginary people again? Because I did warn you about that Bouillabaisse…"

"No, its nothing like that.' He said quickly, craning his neck to see the house.

For a moment, it looked as if she wasn't going to come back out. But then the back door swung inward, and Ginny walked back out carrying her CD player in her arms. He watched in interest as she carried it over to Charlie by the food table and said something to him. He laughed, nodded and helped clear a space for Ginny to put the player down on. Pulling his wand out, Charlie waved it over at the instruments playing in the corner, causing them all to cease and lay down on the ground in silence. He then waved his wand at the CD player, muttering a spell and a moment later, music began blaring from it. Music very unlike the classical concerto's they had just been listening to.

Everyone dancing seemed to stop and look around in confusion as the muggle song 'Walkin' on the sun' came on. The only people who now seemed to be moving were Charlie and Ginny, who made their way out into the dancing area and began moving away to the beat.

Lily laughed. "What the heck…?"

Harry couldn't help but smile as Ginny went for it, shaking her hips and lifting her hands up, dancing as if she were still up in her room with the radio blaring. As the shock wore of, more people began to dance, particularly the younger ones.

"I think this is my cue to sit down.' Said Lily, patting Harry's shoulders. 'Just let me know when they start playing ABBA and I'll be right up again."

-----------

Molly Weasley looked on in horror as Charlie grabbed Ginny's and hand twirled her, this new brand of music apparently getting under everyone's skin in a very positive way. She reached into her robes and pulled her wand out, and had her hand raised and ready to cast a spell when another hand grabbed her wrist.

"Don't.' said Bill's voice in her ear.

She looked around at Bill in amazement, his face as serious as his tone. "'_Don't_'? Are you _insane_, William? This is not the sort of music you want playing at a wedding!"

"There's nothing wrong with it, Mum.' Said Bill, letting her hand go. 'Ginny asked my permission first, Fleur doesn't mind…I don't see the harm."

"But…but…"

"No 'buts', woman!' laughed Bill. 'This is my wedding, and I will have the music I want. Besides, look at Ginny.' He said, pointing at his little sister. 'I haven't seen her that happy in weeks."

Molly deflated significantly and looked at Ginny. Indeed, Ginny didn't seem to smile a whole lot these days. At least not in the way she used to. It was nice to see Ginny having a genuinely good time without a care in the world.

Bill put an arm around his mother's shoulder and planted a kiss atop of her head. "Just relax, okay? It's a wedding. Have some fun."

Giving her shoulder one final supportive tap, he left her with her thoughts and wandered over to someone else he wanted a few words with. Harry was standing off to the side again, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes locked on, no doubt, Bill's little sister.

Bill smiled as she sidled up next to him. "Having fun?"

Harry looked around at him quickly, blushing. "Oh, er…hi Bill. I was just; er…I was just…"

"Enjoying the scenery?' offered Bill, smirking.

"Yeah… something like that."

Bill laughed and folded his arms over his chest, surprised that Harry was actually afraid of him and his 'Big Brother' role.

"So, a married man!' laughed Harry.

"Yeah, I know. Hard to believe, huh?' chuckled Bill, lifting up his left hand to examine his ring again. 'My days of wild, swinging bachelor parties are sadly over it seems."

Harry snorted. "I'm sure you'll get over it."

Bill grinned and looked back at Harry. He let a moment pass, before cleared his throat. "So…when can I expect my little sister to become 'The witch formerly known as Weasley' and adopt a more famous last name?"

Harry laughed and ruffled his hair. "Sorry mate…not for a long time."

"And why not?"

"Because…it's complicated."

"How is it complicated?' urged Bill, raising his eyebrows.

"It just is.' Said Harry quickly, squaring his shoulders.

Bill blew hair out through his lips. "Listen, Harry, I get why you broke up with her, and I get that it was hard…but don't you ever think that maybe you made the wrong choice?"

Harry looked around at him, his eyes blazing. "The wrong choice? I'm trying to _protect _her, Bill! I would have thought you, of all people, would appreciate something like that!"

"I do, mate, I do!' said Bill, holding his hands up defensively. 'I'm just concerned, is all. I know it's hard on the both of you. What I want to know is why can't you just go for it?"

"Because I don't want Voldemort finding out about her.' Said Harry firmly.

"He _already_ knows about her.' Said Bill simply.

Harry blinked. "Excuse me?"

Bill sighed and rubbed his scarred face. "Look, the entire Hogwarts alumni saw you and Ginny together back in May, right? And even before that they knew you were friends. If that little Malfoy git was really sucking up to the Big V, no doubt he's already spilled the magical beans on your feelings for her and your relationship. It won't matter if you're with her or not…he'll know how much you care about her, and that'll be enough for him."

Harry just stared at him, feeling horror settle in his stomach. Could Bill be telling the truth? Would Voldemort really already know about Ginny? It made sense; anyone could have told him about them.

"Look, all I'm saying is that you should rethink your decision.' Said Bill. 'If you, Merlin forbid, got hurt or died tomorrow, would you feel glad that you'd pushed her away? Or would you have wanted to make the most of your time with her while you still had it? You said you already regretted not going for it with her earlier on…do you still want to have that regret, or do you want to change it?"

"Of course I don't want it. But its…it's just _complicated_.' Said Harry, frustration evident in his tone. 'The timing…what we're going through at the moment…'

"You mean the war?"

Harry nodded.

Bill laughed. "Why should that stop you? If anything, it should motivate you! Make you want to live each day to the max! Look at me and Fleur. We wanted to make the most of our relationship."

"You and Fleur are different.'

"How?"

"You don't have some psycho killer after you."

"Don't we?' challenged Bill. When Harry said nothing, Bill put a hand on his shoulder. 'We're all in this war, Harry. Not just you. We're all in it together."

Harry sighed as if tired and looked back out at Ginny. "I don't know what to think anymore."

"Don't think on this one; just feel. That's what you're best at, isn't it?' grinned Bill. Harry grinned and Bill patted Harry on the back. 'Don't let Him get you down, mate. Don't let anyone, _ever_, make you feel like you don't deserve what you want. Especially Him."

Harry smiled at Bill, feeling strangely better about everything. "Thanks Bill."

"No problem, buddy.' Laughed Bill, patting Harry on the back again. 'Now go on, go get pissed or something. Just know that I want to see you dancing with my sister by the end of the night!"

------------

Ron laughed as Harry flopped down on the chair beside him with a groan. "Too much dancing for the ickle little Chosen One?"

"Shut up.' Said Harry, elbowing Ron. 'At least I've got the stones to actually get up there and have a spin. Unlike _someone_ I know, who has sat on his arse all night and not moved from the buffet table."

"No reason to move unless I absolutely have to.' Said Ron, looking back out at the crowd.

"You haven't felt the need to run away from any of your Aunt's yet?' asked Harry, surprised.

"Well, truth be told I haven't seen many! Great Aunt Tessie came over to give my cheeks their ritual pinch, and Aunt Imelda did coo over my hair for a good ten minutes, but other than that all the attention has been on Bill and Charlie, which I'm fine with."

Harry smiled and shook his head. "Wont even dance with your mum!"

Ron grinned. "Like I said, all eyes are on Bill today.'

Ron tilted his head and smiled as he spotted Hermione sitting a few meters away, chatting away to Professor McGonagall. It really was typical of her – even at a social function she found the time to talk to a Professor. He had to admit, she did look nice. With her hair straight and actually manageable, and in that dress, and her face with the small touches of make-up…

He felt his stomach clench as a young, very good looking man approached Hermione. Ron's skin crawled as he bowed respectfully with a large, attractive grin and held a hand out for Hermione. Ron wasn't an idiot, he knew what was going on, and his first instinct was to run over there and tell the pompous git to bugger off. But, as he watched on with a clenched jaw of irritation, Hermione seemed to blush but smile politely, shake her head and say something to him. The man smiled, nodded and walked off again, leaving Hermione alone.

_Good riddance_. Thought Ron furiously. _How old was he anyway? Twenty five? Going after Hermione? _

"You alright?' laughed Harry.

Ron looked around to find Harry looking at him with a grin. "What?"

"You look constipated or something. Are you going numb from sitting for so long? Because if you are, you just need to flex a little…'

"No, I'm not numb.' Said Ron, his ears flushing.

Harry smirked. "Yeah, alright."

Both boys looked up as a small group of middle-aged men walked past, all of them talking rapidly in French. They were all laughing heartily and swaying a little apparently more than a little intoxicated. They were all dressed up in very fancy robes cloaks hung over their arms, apparently ready to head off home.

"Makes you wonder what they're really talking about, doesn't it.' Muttered Ron, nodding his head toward the group of men suggestively."

"Goldfish?' offered Harry, his eyebrows raised.

Ron snorted. "They're probably still sore with the prank Fred and George pulled on them at dinner."

"I'd be sore too if my national delicacy got turned into a hamburger and fries.' Said Harry, smirking as he remembered the prank.

"You'd think they'd like it.' Said Ron, shrugging. 'Their French…they should like French fries!"

Harry laughed as the group of men moved off, but did a double take as something shiny on the ground caught his eye. He got up and picked it up, examining a gold pocket watch in his hand.

"What's that?' asked Ron, coming to his side.

"Don't know. Think it belongs to one of them?' said Harry, gesturing to the quickly departing group of men.

"Bloody hell, most likely. Hey! Hey, wait a second!' called Ron after them. But they didn't seem to hear him, as they just kept walking. 'Blimey, why won't they stop?"

"Because they're French, idiot! They don't understand what you're saying!' said Harry quickly. 'Quick, yell stop in French!"

"Stop in French!"

"No, Ron, you prat!"

In a movement, quick as a flash, Hermione came out of nowhere, grabbed the watch out of Harry's hand and called out, 'Excusez-moi, monsieur!"

Instantly, the group of men whirled around. One particular man, a tall man with grey hair and massive blue eyes, came forward. "Oui?"

"Pardon je, mais aves-vous laisse tomber ceci?' said Hermione in perfectly fluent French, holding out the watch.

The man patted his sides, and then looked up at Hermione with a smile. "Ampereheure, oui! Merci, jeune dame!' he rushed forward, took the watch out of Hermione's hand and gave her knuckles a quick kiss. 'Merci beaucoup, Mon Cher."

Hermione laughed and shrugged. "Aucun ennui du tout, monsieur."

The man bowed his head. "Adieu."

"Bonne nuit, monsieur." Replied Hermione, inclining her head respectfully.

The group of men tipped their hats to Hermione, and then left in a whirl of cloaks. Hermione smiled after them and turned to Ron and Harry beside her.

And found them looking at her, mouths wide open.

Hermione blinked. "What?' she laughed.

"You…you speak _French_?' asked Ron, looking equally as gobsmacked as Harry.

Hermione clicked her tongue impatiently. "I know you don't think I spent a month in France and didn't pick up any of their native tongue at all. Surely you two know me better than that by now."

"Why didn't you tell us you could do this earlier?' asked Harry, looking at Hermione in awe.

In that moment, Ginny came over to the group, a bottle of Butterbeer in her hand. "What haven't you told them now?' she asked.

"That I could speak French.' Said Hermione.

"Ah, parler la langue romantique!' laughed Ginny in a rough form of French.

Hermione laughed. "Je vous vois avoir practique?"

Ginny smiled and shrugged. "Juste un peu."

"Wait, hold on a second!' cried Ron, holding up a hand. 'You can speak French _too_?"

"A little.' Said Ginny, blushing. 'Gabrielle's been teaching me."

Ron threw his hands up in the air. "I can't believe this!"

"Just because _you _can't speak French, doesn't mean you have to get indignant as us smart, intellectual people who can.' Leered Ginny playfully.

"I can speak French.' Said Ron defensively, squaring his shoulders.

"Oh, really?' giggled Hermione. 'Say something in French then. Go on!"

Ron cleared his throat, his ears flushing as he looked right at her. "Voulez vous coucher avec moi." He said pompously. But instead of the defeated look he had been hoping for, Hermione burst out laughing. "What? What's your problem?"

"Do you even know what you said?" he giggled, holding her stomach.

"Yeah, I said 'I'm going to the bathroom'." He said, looking very confused at her laughter.

Hermione sighed, trying to control herself. "Ron, '_Voulez vous coucher avec moi'_ in English means, 'please lie down with me'."

Harry and Ginny both burst out laughing. Ron flushed a very deep red as the realization of what he had said to Hermione sunk in. He shoved his hands in his pockets and glared at the ground.

"I'm going to kill Fred, I swear to God…' he muttered angrily.

"It's alright, Ron.' Laughed Harry, patting Ron on the back.

Ron looked like nothing would ever be alright again.

The song changed again; as it had been since Ginny brought her music down to the yard, and Harry felt her very discreetly begin to move beside him. Instantly, the sound of Bill's advice began echoing in his head like a church bell, demanding his attention. Maybe it was the atmosphere, or the light moment they'd just shared, or maybe just the sheer amount of alcohol he'd consumed, but Harry suddenly felt light-headed and reckless, and almost of its own accord his hand reached out for Ginny's.

Ginny looked down as his fingers linked with hers, surprised. "Harry, what…"

"Come dance with me.' he murmured, plucking the bottle out of her other hand.

She looked too shocked to answer for a moment, but her surprised faded and was replaced with a smile. "Alright."

Grinning, Harry squeezed her hand and led her out into the crowd of dancers. Taking up position just a few feet away from where Lily and Remus were swaying together, he put his hand on her hip, took her other hand in his and brought her close against him.

Ron watched on with a smirk as Ginny smiled up at Harry and pressed her cheek against his, closing her eyes and almost inhaling her scent. "Well, it only took them all night, but better late than never I suppose.' He said, checking the time on his watch.

Hermione laughed beside him. "Be glad it happened at all.' She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, shifting her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. 'You're not going to dance with anyone?"

"No, I don't think so.' Said Ron.

Hermione nodded, barely able to hide her disappointment.

Ron blew air out through his lips as he felt the air between them suddenly become much heavier. He turned his head to look at her, rapidly trying to think of something witty to say to ease the tension…when he saw another young man with light brown hair approach, his eyes locked right on Hermione. Ron felt his irritation boil again. What did he have to _do_? Beat them away with George's old Beater's bat? The good-looking man seemed to approach in slow motion as Ron thought quickly. He didn't know if Hermione would say no to this one, and if Ron would get lucky again. He was only a few feet away now; Hermione hadn't seen him yet…

So Ron did the first thing that came to mind.

"Do you want to dance with me?' he blurted out quickly, grabbing her hand.

Hermione looked at Ron and blinked, stunned. "What?"

"Dance…with me…yay or nay?"

"You…you want to _dance_? With _me_?"

"I just asked you, didn't I?"

"But you just said…"

"I changed my mind.' Said Ron quickly. 'You want to?"

Hermione just stared at him for a long moment, completely stunned, before she softened and nodded. "Yes, alright then."

Ron grinned; feeling very elated, and quickly pulled her out into the crowd of dancers. Once they were out there though, it was a different story. Ron felt like his feet were stuck in cement. He hadn't thought his plan through this far and now found himself quite at a loss of what to do. Hermione, obviously sensing his awkwardness, took his hands and placed one in hers and one at the small of her back. Ron flinched to feel her pressed up against him so close, but quickly came to enjoy it as they swayed together. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the good-looking man who had been ready to approach walk off, obviously getting the point.

_You snooze you loose, bucko._ Thought Ron smugly, wishing that Hermione could get just a little bit closer.

A few feet away, Harry couldn't help but laugh as he watched his two best friends dance together to the slow beat of the song. "Well, it only took them three years, but better late than never I suppose."

Ginny looked around at her brother and Hermione and snorted. "Just be thankful it happened at all. With those two it could have gone on for another three years."

"Oh, I'm thankful.' He said, looking down at her. He smiled and examined her face, wanting to etch every freckle into his memory. 'I'm _very_ thankful."

* * *

A/N – Yep, she's a longin'! Just something that little bit extra to tide you over until the next chapter! Can you spot movie references in there? Tell me your favorite lines or parts!

Please review!


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21!

* * *

Harry rolled his eyes in relief as he crossed the threshold of his mother's room. "_Finally_! I have been looking for you for years!"

Lily, who was sitting up in bed with her back propped up against the bed head, did not look up from her book, simply sighed and turned the page idly. "Lovely dramatic entrance. Have you ever considered a career in Broadway?"

"In how many ways can I say 'no'?"

"Daytime soaps, perhaps?"

Harry threw her a look. "What are you doing? We're meant to be going out this afternoon."

"I'm reading.' She said, flashing the cover of the book 'Emma' at him. 'I've just gotten to the bit where Emma is introducing Harriet to her 'real love'. Its all very involved and complicated – like a Rubix cube or making toast."

"Cant you read some other time?"

"No, I cannot. I was getting quite into this in the summer of 1980 and then, you know, that whole 'me getting killed' incident occurred and I never got to finish the damn thing. _Such_ an inconvenience." She said, shaking her head.

"Surely you can bookmark it or something."

"After seven years of prior Hermione experience, one would think you would have learnt not to interrupt a woman while she's reading.' Said Lily, giving Harry a look over the top of her book. 'Especially when it's something as intellectual as Jane Austen. Now run along and play, darling, Mummy's busy."

Harry folded his arms over his chest with a huff. "You don't love me anymore."

Lily laughed. "Oh, honey, of course I do. You're my favorite son."

"You say that to all your sons."

"Yes, I do, but I only mean it with you."

Harry smiled. "Are you coming or not?"

Lily sighed and settled in to her book again. "Yeah, in a minute. Just let me finish this chapter; I only have about a hundred pages to go."

"A _hundred_?"

"Give or take a few."

"You'd better be a fast reader."

"I am when I'm not being constantly badgered by annoying teenagers."

"Well, when will you be finished?' asked Harry, shoving his hands in his pockets impatiently.

"Soon." She said, not looking up from her book.

"When's soon?"

"When the big hand is on the 'S' and the little hand is on the 'OON'."

Harry threw his hands up in defeat, turned on his heel and marched out of the room. Really, it was quite impossible to get any sort of answer out of her when she was on one of her sarcastic rolls.

Feeling rather put out, he decided to indulge himself in a sulk as he made his way down to the kitchen. He and Lily had been discussing going into Diagon Alley for over a week, and he had become rather excited to be traveling down the first ever Wizarding location he'd ever gone to, for the first time ever with his mother. It was going to be like experiencing his trip to get his supplies for his first year at Hogwarts the way it should have been – with his mother. Except, this wasn't to be like the first time. Lily would be under the Invisibility Cloak the whole time they walked down the old cobbled road with every second shop closed, windows boarded up and all the colour and life drained from it.

But still, it was an afternoon out with just the both of them, and he was thankful for the time all the same.

When he entered the dining room, he was mildly amused to see Ron sitting at the table, his nose buried in one of the dozens of thick volumes spread around him, and Hermione standing behind him with her hands on his shoulders as if ready to shake him, reading the same book over his shoulder.

Ron sighed and looked into space with an exasperated expression. "Hermione, _please_ don't compare our reading times again. You're fast, I'm slow, enjoy your trophy."

"I'm just seeing where you're up to, that's all.' She said, going pink.

"Yeah, well, I don't need supervision. Go cross-reference or something, will you?"

Hermione smacked him over the back of the head. "Do you even know what cross-referencing is?"

Ron smirked, rubbed his head and turned the page of his book. "I know it has something to do with books, which are things that normally have something to do with you."

Harry smiled and sat himself down at the table opposite Ron. "Good to see you two are playing nicely with one another."

"You know, shockingly enough we don't always need you present to play referee.' Said Hermione, sitting down at the head of the table. 'We are capable of having a normal, civilized conversation."

Ron looked from Hermione to Harry. "Is this the moment where I listen to the voice in my head that says 'don't comment'?"

"I'd say so, yeah." Said Harry, nodding.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Grab a book and read, will you? Make yourself useful for once. And why are you down here anyway? I thought you and your Mum were going into London this afternoon to get more potion ingredients."

"Yeah, so did I.' said Harry, pulling a book toward him. 'Anyway…what are you guys researching now?"

"Pig Latin.' Grumbled Ron, looking at his book cross-eyed.

"Stop it; we are not.' smiled Hermione, throwing a ball of parchment at Ron's head. 'We're going over other large battles in history, trying to work out a bit of a battle plan for us. You know, see if we cant learn from other people's mistakes. Its quite fascinating actually, how people formed their armies and how they used them. They way they separated them, sent them to different areas…'

"Cut to audience snoring their heads off.' Smirked Ron.

Harry ignored him, trying not to laugh. "What have you been looking at? Magical wars?"

"That, and historical wars in muggle history. It's interesting how similar they are when you take away the magical factor that separates them."

"So what have you got so far?"

Hermione drew in a deep breath and seemed to inflate, but Ron cut across her first. "Er, maybe you should tell him when he's got a few days of nothing handy to listen to you ramble."

She deflated and pursed her lips. "Yes, alright. We should be reading anyway, not talking. Both of you, back to work."

Harry and Ron exchanged a small smile, before they went back to their respective books.

For one of the few times in their studying history, the three of them actually managed to stay silent for a very long period of time. The book Harry was reading was actually rather interesting. It told of Adolf Hitler's entire history, from his birth right up until his death in 1945. It was rather a creepy experience to compare the striking similarities between both Hitler's and Voldemort prejudices and opinions. And he was just getting up to the part where Hitler proposed that German Government leaders should be executed, when the silence was broken.

"So…Ginny's going back to school on Monday."

Harry looked up at Ron to find him looking at him expectantly. Harry nodded and looked back down at his book. "Yeah, I know."

"Are you going to see her off?"

"I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it."

Ron jumped as another ball of scrunched up parchment hit his left shoulder. He turned and looked at Hermione. She was frowned at him warningly, shook her head and pointed insistently at his book.

Ron gave her a look and turned back to Harry. "I think she'd be upset if you weren't there."

Harry looked up from his book again and gave Ron a small smile. "Well, she'll have you there, and your Mum and Dad…she'll be right."

As Harry went back to his book, Hermione caught Ron's eye again. She glared at him, pinched her thumb and forefinger together, ran it across her lips, pointed to herself, mimicked the motion of hitting the palm of her left hand with the knuckles of her right and then pointed at him. Ron blinked, not sure if he should laugh or be afraid as he got her message loud and clear.

_Shut your gob or I'm going to smack you_.

Ron let her give him one final look before going back to her book. He sighed and slouched in his chair, fiddling with the corner of his page for a moment, before looking over at Harry again. "So, I was thinking…'

"Did it tickle?' smirked Harry, not looking up from his book.

"You're bloody hilarious.' Said Ron sarcastically. 'Hermione's not the only one who thinks around here, you know."

"No, but apparently I'm the only one who reads without talking.' Said Hermione irritably, giving both boys a look. 'Cant you two save the conversation for later? This is important."

"So is what I have to say!' retorted Ron.

Harry laughed and closed his book around his finger. "What is it then?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go catch a Quidditch game next weekend.' Said Ron bashfully. 'You know, assuming that you're not bogged down with all your hero work that is."

"A Quidditch game?' said Harry, sitting up straighter. 'Who's playing?"

"The Cannons and The Harpies. Charlie got tickets, but something's come up and he can't go, so he's given them to me.' explained Ron. 'Just thought you might be up for it. You know, considering how we won't be playing Quidditch anymore and all."

"No,' said Harry, a dreadful realization settling in, 'I don't suppose we will be, will we?"

"Well, to be quite honest I'm glad you'll both no longer be playing.' Said Hermione, turning the page of her book. 'I get heart palpitations just _thinking _about the both of you in the air."

"You get heart palpitations just thinking about _yourself_ in the air.' Said Ron.

Hermione sighed impatiently and looked up from her book. "I don't know if anyone has noticed, but suddenly I'm the only one working."

"You're right,' said Ron, nodding, 'no-body noticed."

Hermione slammed her book shut and got to her feet. "I'm going upstairs for more books.

And with that, she stormed right out of the room without another word.

Ron shook his head, looking at the door in something of disbelief. "She's crazy. And just when you think you're reached the bottom of her craziness, there's a crazy underground garage!"

"And yet, _her_ insanity doesn't make front page news.' Said Harry. 'But when _my_ supposed mental stability comes into question…'bump 'Bunnies plot world Domination threat' headline back to page four, Simons, Potter's had another episode!'."

"Hysterical journalism.' Shrugged Ron. 'Makes life interesting."

"Because our lives weren't hysterical enough already.' Said Harry, rolling his eyes.

Ron laughed, and then Hermione walked back in carrying another load of books. She dumped them down on the table with a sigh and flopped back down in her seat at the head of the table.

"Well, come on then…' she said, taking a book from the top of the pile and sliding it down the table to Ron. 'Get cracking. We still have two hundred years of battles to research."

"How about you read all these books,' said Ron, gesturing to the mountain of texts on the table, 'and then you can give me the summary of each of them, and then I can help you make a flow chart or something?" he grinned.

"How about no?' said Hermione, smiling falsely.

Ron's smile fell.

Harry hid his sniggers behind his book, but he needn't have bothered for seconds later the door to the dining room swung inward again and Lily walked in.

"Ah, here are my beautiful little treasures.' She smiled, holding her hands out flamboyantly.

"Wow, you _do_ read fast.' Commented Harry, blinking in surprise.

"Just another of my many talents.' Said Lily, sitting on the table beside Harry. 'Ah, getting in a bit of light reading, I see.' She remarked, picking up a particularly large nearby volume.

Ron laughed. "Well, you know Hermione – everything in moderation."

Hermione sighed and opened up a book in her lap. "You may want to relate that philosophy to your application of aftershave every once in a while."

Lily chuckled at Ron's expression and tapped Harry on the arm. "Come on, shmickins, ready to go?"

Harry tossed the book onto the table and leapt up from his seat eagerly. "I've been ready for the past half an hour."

"Oh, listen to you! There you go again with that dramatic sense of time…' she grabbed his by the shoulders and steered him toward the door, but took a moment to look back at the two teens they were leaving behind. 'We'll only be a short while. Try not to kill one another. Agent Mulder…Agent Scully…'

And with one final nod, she and Harry left, leaving Hermione giggling and Ron wondering who and what were a Mulder and a Scully.

---------------

Remus apparated into the living room of Tonks's small flat just after three, his arms full of papers and documents. He looked around the fair-sized room, taking in the familiar disheveled, personal appearance of it all. Her furniture that didn't match, her bright blue curtains, her television unit at one wall, her Photo wall on the other (which was a wall covered completely in framed photo's of her family and friends), her lava lamps and her other little knickknacks. He had been expecting to find her sitting on the lounge reading a book, or sitting by the window with her headphone on and music blaring in her ears. But, after a moment of observation he found that the living room was completely silent and empty…two things Tonks was notoriously known for not being.

"Dora?' he called, slowly walking around in interest. 'Dora are you here?"

There was another long pause, and then Remus heard the very faint of hushed voices somewhere else in the flat like the soft scratching of a mouse's claws. Frowning, he placed the papers on the coffee table and went through to the next room to investigate.

He was only half-way there, when the door to the kitchen was half-closing behind Tonks as she slinked out of the room and smiled at him as he approached.

"Hey you, surprise surprise!' she said almost too happily.

"No, not really,' he said, accepting a quick kiss on the cheek from her, 'I told you I would be coming over this afternoon with all of my theorized Death Eater placements, remember?"

Tonks's smile faltered for a moment, but her blank expression vanished as quickly as it had come and she laughed. "Oh yes, that's right, I remember now. Sorry, Remus, my minds all over the place at the moment.

Remus nodded, looking at the closed door behind her with suspicion. "Well, that's understandable, considering the stress we're all under at the moment…especially you Aurors, what with the Ministry in shambles and is there someone in there?"

"What? No, no-one's in there."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, I was just in there. I think I would have noticed if there was another person walking around my kitchen."

"I heard voices."

"I was watching television.' She laughed, giving him a look. 'You know me; can't go without my Black Adder.'

Remus frowned at her. She didn't seem jumpy, and he didn't really have any reason to be suspicious of her. She was an Auror and Order member after all, not to mention his partner. He should trust her, and yet his instincts were nudging at him.

Tonks frowned back at him. "What's with the interrogation anyway?

Remus considered her for a moment, before smiling and relaxing. "Nothing, I'm just curious as to if you had company. I don't want to interrupt."

"Poppycock! As if you could interrupt anything!' she laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Aside from Black Adder.' He grinned.

"Yes, of course, aside from that small necessity.'

Remus laughed, took her face in his hands and kissed her. He was being silly, after all. This was Tonks! What would she have to hide from him?

Tonks sighed and patted his chest. "Come on, sexy, lets get to work."

She took his hand and led him back through to the living room.

"Have you been changing your sheets?"

"What? No. Why?"

"Oh, nothing…I can just smell fresh linen."

"Remus, quit smelling everything. It's freaking me out."

--------------

The atmosphere in Diagon Alley was just what Harry had expected.

It was even more depressing than his last visit the year before. More and more shops were boarded up and closed for business, people walked around with anxious expression on their faces, not saying much and looking around nervously as they walked in groups as if expecting to be attacked at any second. The only shop that was buzzing with life at all was Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, where Fred and George seemed to be periodically letting off fireworks if the bangs, flashes of light and squeals of excited people were anything to go by.

"It's like a ghost town.' Murmured a voice in the air to his left. 'I could throw a stone and probably wouldn't hit anyone."

"I wouldn't recommend trying that theory out.' Muttered Harry, watching as two elderly witches bustled past. 'You're likely to break a hip or something."

Although she was hidden under the Invisibility Cloak, Harry was sure he could almost hear her smirk. "It's just sad to see, is all. This place was like…the Happy Hour gathering of the wizarding community of London, and now…"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know."

They stopped in front Madam Malkins, and Harry impulsively looked down the street to the boarded up windows of Olivanders. Harry was disappointed to see it was still closed. Again, he wondered where the aged wizard was now, and if he was safe. Although Mr. Olivander hadn't been his favorite person in the world, Harry certainly didn't want to think of him in trouble or hurt.

He felt something invisible lean up against his arm. "At least we could get the potion ingredients.' Said Lily.

Harry looked down at the crate in his arms full of assorted sized jars of potion ingredients. "Well, not all of them. We still need…Boomslang skin? What do we need that for?" he frowned, reading the list in his hand.

"I don't know,' whispered Lily beside him. 'Hermione told me to put it on the list. Maybe she wants to make some Polyjuice potion."

"You would think she would stray from that experience again, considering what happened to her last time she drank it.' Grinned Harry, slipping the list back in his pocket.

"Well, I don't think you'll be getting Boomslang Skin at the Apothecary anymore.' Said Lily beside him. 'I didn't see any while we were in there. Come to think of it, I didn't see much of _anything_ while we were in there. It's almost as if they're afraid to sell anything but the most basic of ingredients that only first years would use."

"Probably paranoid someone will go in there and stock up on hazardous ingredients to cause havoc with.' Muttered Harry, kicking a stone away.

The two of them stayed silent for a moment as another group of chattering wizards walked past, giving Harry suspicious looks. Harry understood how it must look to see the famous Chosen One standing in the middle of the street by himself, holding a large crate of potion ingredients and muttering to himself. But it was either that, or have Lily standing next to him in broad daylight had risk her being exposed to everyone. He knew which one he preferred.

"Well, come on then,' muttered Lily as soon as they were alone again, 'let's get home."

"What about the Boomslang skin?"

"Well, its not here, is it?"

"Cant we get it somewhere else?"

"Like where? K-mart? I don't think they're on special there this week."

Harry gave the thin air beside him a glare before looking around in thought. He wasn't the most knowledgeable about locations for acquiring rather restricted potion ingredients. Hermione would know, he bet. Maybe he should just go home and ask her about it. Maybe the two of them could come back later and have a look around.

But something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

He looked around as two young witches stopped just a few feet away from him, took a nervous look over their shoulders and then, rather giggly, slipped into the adjacent alleyway.

Harry grinned. "What about Knockturn Alley?"

There was a long pause. "Okay, Harry…dear…sweetums…how can I put this in terms you'll understand? How about 'Hell _NO_'?"

"It's not _that_ bad.' Laughed Harry, suddenly feeling a little reckless. He started toward the alley, but he bumped into something invisible, blocking his way.

"Do not go in there, do you hear me?' hissed Lily. 'It is no place for any young person, especially you."

"I've already been down there.' He said, rolling his eyes. 'And I was only twelve then."

Lily let out a nervous groan. "Please don't remind me."

"Come on, move."

She planted two cloak-covered hands on his shoulders and stopped him as he made to move around her and into the nearby alley. "Harry, no! I mean it this time!'

"As apposed to last time when you were only kidding?"

"Don't get sarcastic with me.' She snapped. 'Look, we can just get it another time. Remus can go down there or something."

"Remus cant. What if someone working for Fenrir sees him collecting potion ingredients?' said Harry. 'He'll get busted for being undercover, and we need Remus's position open."

Lily sighed. "Alright, not Remus then. Kinsley, Tonks, Mad-eye…anyone but you!"

Harry laughed. "Why not me?"

"Because you're _you_, Harry, dammit!' she hissed. 'You don't know who's going to be down that alleyway. You think anyone would want to miss the chance to have a go at the famous Harry Potter? Especially if he's all by himself with no-one around! It's like feeding bait to a shark and I will not let you do it."

"Nothing happened to me last time."

"No, because last time Hagrid came and saved you.' She snapped.

Harry exhaled slowly through his nose and looked down at his feet. "Last time I _needed_ saving. Last time I was a twelve year old boy, who wasn't allowed to use magic outside school, who hadn't learnt anything more complicated than a Disarming spell, and who didn't know anything about dueling or escaping. I've faced Voldemort himself, countless Death Eaters and God-knows how many creatures, and each of those times I've been able to get away. I think now, after everything, I can handle some pitiful little alleyway."

"Don't get too cocky." She growled.

"I'm not cocky, I'm confident. Something that took a long time to build.' He muttered, looking at his feet. 'Look, I'm just going to get some stupid potion ingredient, that's all. I'm going to keep my head down, not stick my nose where it doesn't belong."

"Yes, but you and curiosity have a rather profound love/hate relationship."

"Mum, I'm going in."

"Fine, then I'm going with you."

"No, you are not going with me."

Lily let out a sigh, and Harry knew that if she could she would have jinxed him. "Harry…'

"_No_, mum!' he hissed, giving her general vicinity a glare. 'Knockturn Alley is a lot more crowded at the moment than Diagon Alley has been all year. If you bump into someone, the people in there are not the type of people to just brush it off. They'll attack you or worse.' He paused for a moment, trying to calm himself from that rather hysterical outburst, before sighing. 'Look, if anything goes wrong I'll apparate straight out of there and back to you."

She was silent for a very long moment, and Harry had to wonder if she was still even standing there.

"I don't need you to hold my hand, mum.' He said. 'I'm not a kid anymore."

Another long silence passed, and had Harry been able to see her he would have seen the single tear running down her cheek at the realization that indeed, he didn't need her. He was an adult. He didn't need her there to hold his hand and because of some sick bastard she had missed out on the years that he had.

She pursed her lips and just looked up at him. "If _anything_ goes wrong, I will be there instantly."

Harry smiled, put the crate down beside her and moved around her toward the entrance to Knockturn Alley. "I'll be fine, mum. Five minutes."

"Two minutes."

"Five minutes."

"Thirty seconds."

Laughing to himself, Harry put his hands in his pockets and strolled into the adjoining alleyway. As soon as he entered, the temperature around him seemed to drop a few degrees. Everything went dark, as if the afternoon had fast forwarded itself right up to twilight. The many people around him were all walking slowly, skulking almost, covered up with robes. Walking around in heavy cloaks seemed to be the fashion for Knockturn Alley, and Harry suddenly felt he stuck out like a ballerina in a biker bar in his jeans and blue plaid shirt.

Ignoring the chill up his spine, he stood up tall and walked down the cobbled street. As he passed by the shops, he saw flashes of the most horrendous things in shop windows. Shrunken heads, House Elf ears, Unicorn and Basilisk fangs, poisonous candles, giant spiders and he was sure he even saw the hand of a Centaur. It infuriated him that some people had no respect for all other members of the magical world aside from the human species. As he walked, people would look at him out of the corner of their eye. Some simply glanced away quickly, others glared at him. Some would stop still and stare at him in surprise and awe, and others would hurry off in completely the other direction they had been coming. Harry had been right, it was busy down this alley…and he really didn't want to think about why.

Finally he found a promising shop, right around the corner from Borgin and Burkes. It was sitting on rather a lop-sided angle, as if there had been one too many potions explode within its four walls and it was startling to melt or implode on one side. In the windows hung various sized cauldrons, pigs feet on hooks, levitating jars of lamb's spleen and other ingredients Harry was sure he had never used in his entire educational history at Hogwarts. Swallowing back his hesitation, Harry went to the rickety old glass-panel door and pushed it inward.

Inside was even more revolting. It smelt of damp wood and burnt cauldron. There was barely any light from the few lanterns above them. Shelves seemed to be holding up the ceiling instead of walls; shelves full of jars and containers of hundreds of different potion ingredients. In the middle of the store was a long bench, ever inch of its surface covered with potted plants and soil. Among the plants were not Roses or Hydrangeas, but Venus Flytraps, cuttings of Devils Snare and even what looked to be a Bonsai version of the Whomping Willow. There were six other people within the shop, but none of them besides the shop keeper at the register looked up as Harry entered.

The shopkeeper, a man who was so old and thin he looked like an unwrapped mummy in an apron, gave Harry a very piercing look. "What are you doing here boy?"

"What one would normally do in a shop.' Said Harry, pulling the list out of his pocket. 'Unless the acceptable protocol for purchasing goods has drastically changed in the last ten minutes, in which case I do apologize."

One of the cloaked figures in the far corner made a soft comment under his breath, but Harry ignored him. The shopkeeper was looking at Harry with bloodshot eyes, stroking his unshaved jaw roughly.

"You speak like the rest of your kind.' He wheezed.

"My kind?"

"Yeah, you do-gooders. Self-righteous, thinking we down here aren't worth a sickle and a half…' Said the old man disapprovingly.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, well, as happy as I am to know that I could make your day at least that little but more worth while, I actually am looking to buy something."

The old man's eyes narrowed and a few customers seemed to still, as if listening in. "And what is that? Consideration? You'll find none of that here, nor anywhere else I'm betting.' He snapped.

The man in the corner seemed to agree, for Harry was sure he heard the words 'I'd take that bet' in a low, greasy voice. Harry felt an inexplicable urge to retort back at the cloaked figure, but chose to stay quiet.

"We don't want your kind here.' Said the shopkeeper again.

"Then point me in the direction of the Boomslang skin and I'll soon be out of your hair.' Said Harry, examining the shopkeeper's bald spot.

The shopkeeper clenched his jaw irritably, before lifting a bony finger and pointing to the shelves to Harry's left. Harry smiled in thanks and weaved his way through the customers, not wishing to step on anyone's toes and increase the amount of already heavy tension.

Harry pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and examined the jars. None of them were labeled very well, so he had to rely on memory. It had been almost five years since he and Ron had snuck into Snape's storeroom and stolen the ingredient for Hermione. He knew it was a snake skin, so that helped. He knew it had to be a dull green…the colour of Polyjuice…

Harry smiled and wiped the dust off a label on a particularly tall, think jar. Inside, coiled around the bottom was about ten inches of scaly skin, and on the label it read 'Boomslang, Male.' Satisfied, Harry took two green male jars and a brown female, just for variation.

Thankful he could now pay, get out and get back to his mother before she collapsed a fit of worry, Harry headed up to the counter. There was a small line forming, and just as he was about to take up line behind an old, humpback hag, the cloaked wizard who had been muttering about Harry under his breath in the corner barged in front, knocking Harry roughly out of the way with a sharp shove of his shoulder.

Harry stumbled, but luckily didn't fall into anything. "Hey! Do you mind?"

"Not at all.' Said the man. Although his hood was covering his face, Harry thought he saw the glimmer of a smirk on his pale face.

Pushing aside the anger he felt flaring up in his belly, Harry adjusted the jars in his hands and took up line behind him. It really was ridiculous how being a strange old wizard with no suntan and with the belief that walking around wearing a big heavy black cloak with a hood that covered your face in shadow made you think that you could be rude to people. It certainly wasn't Harry's fault people in Knockturn Alley were all anti-social creeps. As the man turned his head to the side, Harry glared at the tip of the man's nose as it protruded from his hood.

_I'd be anti-social too if I had a honker like that_. Thought Harry bitterly. _No reason to push in though, is it? _

The man in front of Harry finally got to the counter and placed the jars and vials in front of the old wizard.

"Ah, yes, Acromantula secretion!' beamed the shopkeeper with the air of someone who had just found out his friend had won the lottery. 'Excellent for poisons. And then Erumpent horn! Yes…excellent for explosions…also been known to be used for…'

"Just tally it up, old man, would you?' snapped the cloaked man impatiently. 'I don't need to have an explanation of each ingredient. I know what they are for; otherwise I wouldn't be wasting anymore of my rapidly depleting money on them, now would I?"

The shopkeeper bowed his head. "Of course not, sir, forgive me."

The cloaked man sighed irritably and waved a pale hand. "Just get on with it."

Harry's eyes narrowed as he watched the scene in front of him. As the ancient shopkeeper went about adding up all the items in the till, the cloaked man in front of him looked to be a little agitated and nervous. He kept looking out the window and around the shop, as if expecting someone to attack him at any moment. Despite his inexplicable animosity toward the anonymous figure in front of him, Harry couldn't help but agree with him. You never knew what could happen in this place.

"That will be thirty six galleons, seventeen sickles.' Said the old man.

"I beg your pardon?' sneered the cloaked man dangerously

"I'm just the store minder, my good man.' Said the shopkeeper quickly. 'I do not make the prices."

"You must surely take me for a fool. This Doxy dust isn't even worth two sickles!' cried the cloaked man, waving a hand around.

Harry frowned, finding himself having a strange feeling of déjà vu at this man's temper.

The old shopkeeper smiled menacingly, exposing all his rotted teeth. "You do not like it? Then you may leave. But I promise you that you will not find these products anywhere else in such good quality at a better price."

The cloaked figure was still for a moment, and when he spoke Harry had to lean in a little to hear what he was saying.

"And I promise you that the Ministry of Magic will have enough evidence to lock you and your associate up in Azkaban for the rest of your miserable, meaningless lives if they just 'happened' to show up at your doorstep.' He said smoothly. 'Or have you not heard that the Ministry now follows through with all of their credible anonymous tips?"

A tense moment passed, and Harry could tell by the expression on the shopkeepers face that he did not want anyone from the Ministry setting one foot in this shop.

"All it takes is one little note carried by one little owl.' Continued the cloaked man, almost sweetly.

The shopkeeper glared at him. "Thirty for the lot."

"Twenty five and I leave quietly, owl delivery and all.' Said the cloaked man greasily.

"Done.' Said the Shopkeeper. The cloaked man dropped a small satchel on the counter with the clunk of collective coins and gathered up his things in a crate.

"Pleasure doing business with you.' sneered the cloaked man with an almost insultingly polite bow.

The cloaked man turned to leave, but 'accidentally' bashed his shoulder into Harry's again as he passed. Harry spluttered indignantly, but didn't get the chance to form a complete argument for the man had left, black cloak billowing out dramatically behind him.

The old man muttered angrily to himself under his breath as Harry placed the jars on the counter in a daze. There was something oddly familiar about everything that had just happened, and yet Harry couldn't place where. It was like trying to hold onto a dream, but the tighter you gripped the more it slipped away. He looked back out through the window and into the street to see the dark figure disappearing into the crowd with long, determined strides.

"That'll be ten galleons. You want these packaged, boy?'

Harry blinked and looked back around at the shopkeeper who was giving him another spiteful look. "Sorry, what was that?"

The shopkeeper sighed impatiently. "Are you wanting your goods boxed?"

"Oh, er…no, thank you.' He said absentmindedly, looking back out the window for the cloaked man. He pulled out the correct gold coins from his bag and slowly handed it over in payment. 'Does that man come in here often?"

"What business is it of yours?' said the shopkeeper unkindly, depositing the money.

Harry gave him a withering look. "Morbid curiosity. He talked like one who's been in here a fair bit."

"How'd you gather that?'

"Well, he certainly knew how to bribe you.' Said Harry, unable to totally suppress his smirk.

The old shopkeeper let out an angry growl and shook his head, pushing Harry's jars toward him. "I've had enough of you lot today. First _you_ come in, flaunting around your scar, thinking we don't know who you are and what you need that Boomslang Skin for, then I have to put up with that washed up old Potion's master threatening me…'

"Whoa, wait a minute,' said Harry quickly, giving the shopkeeper his full attention. '_Potion's master_?"

"Oh yeah, that's him all right.' He went on, almost as if forgetting Harry was there. 'Thinks I don't know who he is under that hood, but I can smell a murderer a mile off. With such a broad knowledge of potions, it's a wonder he…_hey, where you going_?'

But Harry didn't hear anymore. Forgetting about everything else, the shopkeeper, the store, his ingredients, he threw himself toward the door and raced out in a blind, white-hot rage. His wand was out as he pelted down the street, barging through the crowd. He didn't care if he knocked anyone over, and he didn't care if anyone would report him to the Ministry, and he didn't care what would happen when he found him…he just ran as fast as his legs would carry him. Every piece was now falling into place. The way he talked, the snide remarks, the shoving….

Harry skidded to a halt, searching the many cloaked figures. God, why did they all have to look the same? It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Harry panted heavily from the exertion and anger. How could he be so stupid? All the signs had been right there, and he'd just let him walk out…

Another wave of rage flushed over him like a warm blanket as he spotted him, the heavy crate in his arms, just about to turn the corner. Harry bolted forward, raised his wand, took aim and furiously thought _'Levicorpus!_'.

In a flash of a second, several things happened. Harry ran forward as the spell tripped the cloaked figure up, sending him crashing face forward to the ground and landing heavily on his crate, smashing it open and causing jars and vials to roll around everywhere. The people around them all screamed and started to run off in a panic, obviously jolted into fear mode by a mixture of magic being used openly in broad daylight and the look on Harry's face as he rushed forward, pushing people out of the way. He was only ten feet away from him as he tried to pick himself up…five feet, people were rushing past him, trying to escape…two feet, the street was now empty…

"Back off, Potter!' he screamed.

Harry only had a split second to jump out of the way as a spell hurtled toward him. He dodged it only just, feeling it ruffle his shirt and smash into the brick wall behind him. Not leaving any time for him to fire again, Harry leapt forward and, completely forgetting about wands or magic, grabbed the man by the back of his cloak, threw him over onto his back and punched him in the stomach with all the strength he could muster.

"Did you think I wouldn't know?' yelled Harry, dragging the winded man to his feet. He held him in place, fists like unbreakable vices on the front of his robes. 'Think I wouldn't work out who you were?"

The man grabbed Harry's wrists, sharply tugged him forward and then kneed him sharply in the gut. Harry let his grip go and clutched his stomach, stumbling back and trying to catch his breath.

The cloaked man pulled back his hood and sneered at Harry. "Well, Potter, I had actually thought that with your limited brain capacity you wouldn't.'

Harry let out a cry, ran forward and slammed him harshly into the brick wall behind them with a crack. "Another mistake you've made."

Severus Snape sneered at him, his greasy black hair over his face and his eyes veiled with pain. "Something you'd know all about, isn't it?"

Harry's head rocked back as Snape hit him in the jaw. Harry saw stars, but barely had time to recover as Snape grabbed him by the front of his shirt, spun them around and threw him into the wall with an amazing amount of strength. Harry let out a cry as he felt his back slam harshly against the brick wall. He slid half the way down, struggling to keep on his feet. He glared up at Snape, who was just standing there, wiping spit away from his chin and looking at Harry with loathing.

"Honestly, Potter, how do you ever hope to defeat the Dark Lord when you fight like a girl?"

"The same way I'm going to kill you,' snapped Harry, standing up straight. 'By belting the shit out of you."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Yes, you've proved you can do that admirably well so far in the past few…_urgh!'_

Harry had launched himself forward, grabbed Snape by the front of his shirt and thrown him up again the wall on the other side of the street, smashing the window next to them and sending shards of glass everywhere. Harry had barely hit Snape in the jaw, when Snape kicked Harry in the shin and pushed him back onto the ground. Harry cried out in pain, but a second later Snape and lifted him up onto his feet again in a tight grip.

"Give it up, Potter.' Sneered Snape, shoving Harry away as if revolted by him. 'Self-righteous anger will only take you so far."

"'_Self-righteous'_?' spat Harry in a bitter laugh. 'You really have no remorse at all, do you?"

Snape squared his shoulders. "I don't need to explain myself to you, Potter."

"_YOU KILLED HIM_!' roared Harry, his voice echoing off the buildings. 'You killed the greatest man in the world, and you think you don't need to explain yourself? You're even more of a bastard than I thought!"

"And you're even more of a selfish brat than I thought!' yelled Snape.

Harry rushed forward again, swung his fist around and hit Snape in the jaw again. Snape stumbled back, tripped over the bottom of his robes and fell hard to the ground, but Harry didn't let him have a moment to recover. He jumped on him, wrestling him, hitting him, doing anything and everything his rage was telling him to do. He didn't care how he hurt him; he just wanted to inflict as much pain as possible. To make the man feel the hurt he should be feeling for what he had done.

Snape, however, wasn't letting Harry off easily either. He was hitting him, kneeing him, doing anything he could to get the seething teenager off him. He had dropped his wand before and now had only his fists to protect him. As Harry dealt another blow to his abdomen, Snape couldn't help but feel a little surprised at how strong the boy was now.

"You killed him…you _bastard_…you son of a _bitch_…' he was shouting, grabbing Snape by the front of his robes and bashing him into the hard ground. 'How could you…_HOW COULD YOU_ …"

Snape grabbed Harry by the shoulders and launched him off him. Getting to his feet, he grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt, lifted him up to his feet and pinned him against the wall, breathing heavily. Harry wriggled and thrashed about, but it seemed Snape had him pinned tight. Both were breathing heavily, totally exhausted. Snape's lip was cut, there was a nice bruise appearing just below his left eye and his robes were dirty and torn. Harry had a cut above his right eye, a bruise forming just below his left cheekbone and the frame of his glasses were cracked.

"What an ironic situation we find ourselves in, Potter.' Breathed Snape, smirking as Harry thrashed about in attempt to free himself. 'This is how your father would finish me off after one of our many physical encounters. It's almost perfect Karma that I should get the opportunity to have the roles reversed with his son."

"Let me go and I'll show you Karma.' Growled Harry, thrashing again.

"You wanted to fight? Then let's fight. But I won't have you making me out to be something I'm not."

"You're a coward."

"I am _NOT_ a _COWARD_!' spat Snape, his eyes wide with anger.

Harry smirked. "Oh, dear, did I hit a nerve? Something else my dad used to call you when you were an ickle firstie?"

"Shut your mouth, Potter.' Growled Snape trough gritted teeth, pushing Harry harder against the wall.

But Harry's grin only grew. "What's the matter, Snape? Did my dad pick on you for being a coward too? Do you have sour grapes because you could never be half the man he was?"

"I'm warning you, boy.' He sneered, his eyes narrowed.

"Or was it _your _dear old dad?' said Harry, enjoying the open torment. 'Yeah, I know all about him. He was a muggle, right? That must have really gotten to you, being afraid of a simple muggle. Being a coward, just like your precious Slytherins, and your dear Dark Lord, and your poor mother…'

Snape raised his fist. "I SAID SHUT YOUR…'

But Snape didn't get to finish, for in that moment the tip of a wand nudged into the crevice of his neck.

"Get your hands off my son." Said a confident voice.

Snape looked around from the corner of his eye, and his eyes widened at who he saw.

Lily was standing there, wand arm outstretched, pressed right at his neck. She was looking right at him, her green eyes blazing with anger and confidence. Her long, red hair framed her face impressively, causing her expression of fury to seem even that more dramatic. Snape just looked at her in complete and utter shock, his entire presence going eerily still. Harry's eyes flicked quickly between Snape and his mother, not daring to move a muscle in the moment of tension.

"_Now_, Snape.' Said Lily again, applying just that little bit more pressure into his neck.

Snape didn't move. Lily lifted her chin a little and quirked an eyebrow. After another few more long moments, Snape's grip on Harry loosened and finally he let Harry go. Harry straightened up and adjusted his shirt, giving Snape one final glare before moving around to stand beside his mother. Snape turned around in a daze, looking at Lily with wide eyes of wonder.

"_Evans_.' He muttered, swallowing back.

Lily kept both her eyes and her wand on him. "Harry…are you alright?"

"I'm fine.' He said defensively, wiping blood from his lip. 'What are you doing here? And without the cloak?"

"I saw dozens of people running out of Knockturn Alley, screaming hysterically. I got worried and came in looking for you.' She said. Although she was concerned, her voice was level and business-like as she continued to stare at Snape, her wand steadily pointed at his chest. 'Thought you might need a hand."

Harry frowned and fixed his glasses with a tap of his wand. "I had things under control."

"Oh, yeah, I could see that.' She said, smirking.

Harry gave her a look.

The silence in the deserted alley suddenly became very pronounced as Lily and Snape just stared at one another. It was the first time Harry had ever seen Snape utterly speechless. He was just standing there, face bruised and cut and robes torn and dirty, looking at her as if his entire world had suddenly been turned upside down. Lily just looked right back at him almost defiantly, cool and confident as if she did this all the time.

Finally, after what seemed an eternal staring competition, Snape blinked. "Evans?"

"The witch formally known as, thank you very much, Snape.' Said Lily shortly. 'Or did you miss out on the memo that proclaimed me married?"

Snape was shaking his head in disbelief. "It's not possible."

Lily smiled. "Oh, Snape, come now…_anything's_ possible."

"Where's the cloak?' muttered Harry in her ear suddenly.

"Stop fussing, will you?' she whispered.

Snape's eyes narrowed as he looked at the two Potter's in front of him. It was one of those sights you could always envision so easily in your mind, but when you actually saw it for real with your own two eyes it just seemed different that you had ever imagined.

Lily shoved Harry away with her free hand and refocused her attention on the wizard at the end of her wand. "So, Snape…care to elaborate why you were beating the shite out of my son?"

"Because he's a little wart who deserves it.' Said Snape, eyeing Lily with great suspicion.

"And you aren't?' retorted Lily levelly, apparently not at all deterred by his words. 'Honestly, Snape, isn't manhandling children twenty years your junior a little redundant at your age? How on earth you got the position as a Hogwarts Professor I'm sure I'll never know."

Harry smiled inwardly at his mother's snappy retort, but all that she had said seemed to have sailed right over Snape's head. He was just staring at Lily with the most open expression of shock Harry had ever seen on his normally stony face. He looked very confused and vulnerable and almost that little bit afraid. It was such a different side of Snape that Harry found it almost insulting.

"How is this happening?' said Snape sharply. 'What trickery is this, Potter? How have you done it?"

"If I knew how to mimic something like this, Snape, I would have done it years ago.' Said Harry.

Snape shook his head in utter denial. "It can't be you, Evans."

"Yeah,' said Lily, nodding, 'I get that a lot."

"Is it Polyjuice, Potter?' sneered Snape, now looking quite angry. 'Is that what you need the Boomslang Skin for? You must be quite the expert at making Polyjuice by now."

Lily straightened her arm a little more, backing Snape up. "Be quiet, will you? For once in your life."

Snape looked simply livid now. He looked at Harry, then at Lily, and then at the tip of her wand that was pointed directly at his chest, apparently weighing up his options. He clenched his jaw, looking if possible even paler, and finally seemed to relent. He folded his arms over his chest and flipped strands of greasy hair out of his face, glaring determinedly at Lily in front of him as if trying to convey telepathically just how much he loathed this situation.

Once Lily was satisfied he wasn't going to say anything, she kept her eyes on him but turned her attention to Harry. "Go get Tonks."

"What? Why?"

"So she can go get the rest of her little mates and then they can come and take…_Snivellus_ here away.' Said Lily, putting emphasis on the name.

Harry shook his head. "No way, Mum. I'm not leaving you here with _him_ by yourself, and especially not in this place where anyone could suddenly turn up. You're lucky there's no-one here now, but if someone apparates in and sees you with him…'

"Harry, I'm not a child.' Said Lily, smirking. 'I don't need you here to hold my hand."

"That is _not_ funny.' He said, giving her a look. 'This is a completely different situation."

Lily shrugged, giving Snape a humorless smile. "I can take care of him. I have in the past many times after all, haven't I, Severus?'

Snape's eyes narrowed.

Harry wiped his mouth gingerly with his thumb. "Mum, seriously…'

"Well, we can't just stand here all day, Harry.' Said Lily impatiently. 'You need to go get someone. And I certainly can't just stroll into the Ministry of Magic claiming I have Severus Snape in custody now can I?"

"And you think it will sound more credible coming from _me_?' said Harry in disbelief.

"At least it's legitimate for you to walk in, living and breathing, unlike some people present.' She retorted impatiently. 'Just do as you're told, will you please?"

Harry looked at Snape again for a long moment, before folding his arms over his chest. "I want to get some answers first."

"Harry, please!' cried Lily irritably.

But Snape just shook his head. "And you won't even listen to your own mother. Testimony that you are, indeed, a stubborn, insolent little deviant…just like your father."

Lily took a threatening step forward, tightening her grip on her wand. "You shut your mouth about my son. _And_ my husband. Do you understand me? Otherwise the only sounds you'll be making will be squawks."

"You don't know him like I do.' Continued Snape, giving Harry one of his usual glares. 'Potter has no respect for anyone other than himself. He is insolent, rebellious, self-centered…'

"My son is nothing like that and you know it.' She snapped. 'Just because James was a git to you in the past is no reason to take it out on Harry. Let it go, Snape, its utterly pathetic."

Snape looked at her for a long moment, before chuckling to himself. "Potter, I find it remarkable that you could have brainwashed this woman so effectively.'

"Look, I don't have to explain any of this to you.' Said Harry, stepping forward. 'So before I go and get Tonks I want to know one thing."

"Oh yes, and what is that? If I feel lucky?' said Snape lazily.

Harry frowned. "Where's Malfoy?"

Snape looked at Harry, as if expecting there to be more. But when he realized that Harry really was done, he smirked at him with malevolence. "You ask me as though you really expect me to answer that."

"Tell me where.' Repeated Harry steely.

"He's safe if that's what you wanted to know."

"Oh yeah, that's _exactly_ what I wanted to know.' Said Harry sarcastically. 'I can sleep better at night now knowing that the ferret-faced git is _safe_."

Lily surveyed Snape critically, ignoring Harry's sarcasm and taking in the finer details of the man in front of her. She remembered him very well from school. Even though he wasn't popular for the right reasons, everyone knew him. He was the anti-social Slytherin kid who was so deeply absorbed in the Dark Arts it seemed that sometimes nothing could draw him out. He didn't have many friends and barely spoke up in class, and yet he did exceptionally well. Sometimes in their earlier years, Lily could never make up her mind whether she should hate him or like him. She wanted to feel sorry for him while James and Sirius picked on him, and yet his attitude towards Muggle-borns did nothing to win over her favor. He'd always been thin and lanky, but now as a man he looked almost anorexic. His face was pale and withdrawn and there were dark circles under his eyes. His hair sat limp and even more greasy than usual, but Lily really didn't expect anything less from a man on the run.

She shook her head, summoning up the small amount of pity she always reserved for him. "God, look at you, Severus.' She said softly. 'What have you done to yourself?"

Snape glared at her. "I made choices, Evans, just like you did. Save your pity, I neither want nor need it."

"We reserve no pity for murderers.' Growled Harry angrily.

"I don't need to excuse myself to you, Potter.' Snapped Snape angrily. 'Go stick your head in a pile of Hippogriff droppings for all I care. Do us all a favor."

"I'll tell you where you can stick your head, Snape…' started Harry angrily.

"Harry, that's enough.' Said Lily sharply over her shoulder. She turned back to Snape. 'Severus, I know you're an incorrigible son of a bitch, and a Death Eater…but you'd never kill Dumbledore unless there was some real reason. He was the only person you ever held any respect for."

Snape sniffed.

Harry rolled his eyes. "If he had any respect for him he wouldn't have killed him!"

"Don't speak about things you know nothing about.' Sneered Snape.

"Explain it to me then."

"It is none of your business.' Snapped Snape. 'A concept you seem to find difficult to grasp. Not everything that happens is about you."

"This isn't about me, I know that, you idiot.' Retorted Harry. 'This is about you, and Malfoy, and the rest of your friends storming Hogwarts and being responsible for the death of the greatest wizard in the entire world. And this is about you helping Malfoy doing it!"

Snape clenched his jaw. "Draco has done nothing wrong."

Harry laughed through his lips. "The _hell_ he hasn't!"

"Harry, for the love of God, back off!' snapped Lily, taking her eyes off Snape for the first time and giving her son a glare. 'Calm down, okay?'

Harry looked at her for a long moment, before silently relenting.

Snape chuckled to himself. "Like father, like son. Cowering before the Mudblood."

SMACK.

Snape looked at Lily in amazement, holding his face where she had slapped him. Lily just glared at him furiously, her emerald green eyes blazing with anger.

"_That_ was from James.' she cried, her wand shaking with fury. 'You're lucky he isn't here. Otherwise you'd be _begging_ for a slap compared to the belting he would have given you."

Harry bit back a laugh as he watched Snape almost cowering in front of Lily. He thought that Snape should consider himself lucky that she had gotten there before Harry, for Harry would not have stopped at just a slap.

Snape straightened up as Lily backed up again, pointing her wand at his chest. He rubbed his cheek, the daze wearing off and being replaced with anger once more.

"Go get Tonks, Harry.' Said Lily calmly.

"You seem so calm about this, Evans.' Said Snape, smirking. 'You also seem to be under the ridiculous assumption that I'm going to come quietly."

Harry raised his wand also, feeling very on edge suddenly. "You will if you know what's good for you."

"What's good for me is not standing in the alley.' Said Snape, folding his arms over his chest again.

"Give it up, Snape.' Said Lily. 'You're caught."

Snape smirked. "You'll have to catch me first."

Harry frowned. "What are you talking about? We've _already_ caught…'

_BOOM_.

Lily and Harry both doubled over, coughing and spluttering as a repulsively smelly yellow fog suddenly covered the scene. Quick as a flash, Snape had produced a vial from the folds of his robes and thrown it on the ground. Harry could hear the rustling of feet, then a _crack_, and his mother coughing beside him, but all he could see was fog.

"Mum…_ack_…you alright?" called Harry, waving the fog away.

"Where's he…Harry…where's he gone?' coughed Lily.

Spluttering, Harry raised his wand. '_Evan_…urgh…_Evanesco!_'

Instantly the fog faded away, revealing the scene to them once more.

"Oh, good boy…' said Lily, coming over to him. '…good boy…'

Harry saw his mother straightening up a few feet away, but Snape was now nowhere in sight. The crate and potion ingredients as well as Snape's discarded wand were gone also without a trace.

"God _DAMMIT_!' cried Harry angrily, causing nearby windows to smash. 'I don't _BELIEVE_ THIS!"

"Harry, stop!' urged Lily loudly, trying to calm him down.

Harry swung his fist around and smashed one of the only window panes left in the vicinity. "We HAD him; dammit…we _had_ him…'

"I know, sweetheart, I know.' Soothed Lily, taking his arms. 'It's alright, Harry. Calm down."

Slowly, Harry took deep breaths, trying to calm down. Since running out of the potions store, Harry realized he'd been in a high state of fury. His muscles were all tight and tense; his jaw hurt from clenching it so much, everything ached with stress and the pain from being beaten up was now settling in. He looked down at Lily and tried to relax, trying to ignore the throbbing in his hand where he had punched the window. He let his anger go, unclenching his muscles and loosening up his shoulders. He felt heavy and tired and sore all over.

Lily smiled at him and stroked his cheek. "It's alright, sweetheart."

Harry shook his head, letting it droop in shame. "I _had_ him."

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself.' She said softly. 'Snape is a very good wizard. He knows how to get out of tough situations. He's always prepared…especially lately. You weren't to know."

"No, I should have done what you said.' Said Harry, looking at his knuckles. They were cut and bleeding. 'I should have gone to get Tonks straight away, then he wouldn't have gotten away so easily with more of us there…"

"You were looking out for me.' said Lily. 'That's nothing to be ashamed of. That compassion is what separates you from them."

Harry shook his head. "Voldemort has no compassion. That's why he always gets away. That's why he always wins."

Lily sighed, took his battered face gently in her hands and kissed him on the forehead. "Don't think about that now, okay? Come on, let's get you home and clean you up."

"What about Snape?"

"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure we haven't seen the last of him."

* * *

A/N – Another long one! I don't think I'll start apologizing for them anymore, as none of you seem to complain about it! Hopefully another acceptable chapter that sets up some stuff for later on down the track. Let me know your favorite bits!

Please review!


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22!

* * *

Harry blew air out through his lips as he admired the large, red steam train sitting stationary to his right, ready to depart for the first day of term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Steam was billowing from its funnel every few minutes as the magnificent train geared up to leave, as eager to get up to Hogsmeade Village station as most of the students boarding it. Platform 9 ¾ was a hive of activity. Everywhere Harry looked there were people. Young, first years, looking around anxiously yet excitedly, their arms full with pet cages or food for the trip, bidding their parents a teary goodbye. Older students were greeting their friends, hugging, exchanging gossip from their months apart and looking at one another to see what changes puberty had given them over the summer. Adults were waving to their children, ushering them onto the train, chatting with friends but all the while having one eye scouting around nervously for any danger.

He put his hands in his pockets and sighed inwardly, wishing it hadn't come to this. He wanted to be going back to Hogwarts as much as everyone else did. Hogwarts was like his home, and life seemed rather incomplete without the ancient castle. But, then again Hogwarts was a symbol of the innocence in them all. Not going back to Hogwarts was testimony that he didn't have that blissful innocence anymore. He'd outgrown it, and it was both empowering and depressing to realize such a fact. Hogwarts was too cramped, too crowded and too small for him now. He needed to be out in the real world, out of the educational play-pen he'd been stuck in for the past six years so he could do what he had to do and do it properly.

The train whistle blew, jolting Harry out of his thoughts. He looked at his watch and saw it was ten to eleven, almost time to leave. With one final look at the Hogwarts Express, Harry looked away, pushed his sadness aside and looked around at the family closest to him.

Ginny was currently being smothered by her mother. Mrs. Weasley had her arms around Ginny's middle in a tight, bone-crushing hug, and Ginny was looking around with an expression that implied she was wishing she could be anywhere else. A bright red flush was creeping up her face at the looks she was getting from her friends already on the train.

"Now, Ginny, do you have everything?' said Mrs. Weasley, looking as if she were going to burst into tears at any moment. 'Have you got everything? Is there anything you need?"

"Some oxygen would be nice.' Wheezed Ginny.

Mr Weasley laughed and grabbed his wife by the shoulders. "Molly, let the poor girl go. She's going to be late and I haven't had my third hug yet."

"Oh, yes, of course dear."

Harry smiled as Ginny embraced her father warmly. Good-byes like these seemed to be more emotional than they had been the year before. He wasn't sure, but he had a feeling it was because Ginny was, for the first time in probably fifteen years, going to be the only Weasley in the entire school. Harry expected this reaction from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley; it couldn't have been easy for them to let their youngest child and only daughter go off to school half way across the country while the rest of them stayed close. The old feeling of Hogwarts being the safest place for children had disintegrated since the events of the June just passed.

Ron, who had been standing next to him, looked at him. "You alright?"

"What? Yeah, no, I'm fine.' Said Harry, nodding as he watched Mrs. Weasley grab Ginny again in their fourth hug. 'Just thinking about…stuff."

"Hitting home, is it?' said Ron. 'That we won't be getting on that train?"

Harry watched as Ginny gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, smiled and then handed her father the large trunk at her feet. "Yeah. It just seems a bit…strange, is all."

Ron nodded but didn't say anymore and Harry was grateful for the silence. He just continued to watch as Ginny made her way over to Hermione. The two girls smiled at one another and embraced warmly, holding one another in that tight, secure way that only good friends or sisters would do. Hermione stroked Ginny's long, flaming locks with her fingers and murmured something in Ginny's ear. Ginny nodded, gave Hermione one final squeeze and pulled back. The two girls stayed connected at the hip, holding one another's forearms and smiled at one another. Hermione said something else that Harry couldn't make out, and Ginny laughed, leant forward and gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek.

The two girls let one another go. Ginny looked over at Ron, smiled at him happily and moved over to him, standing on tip-toe to wrap her arms around his shoulders in a hug. Ron bent down and wrapped his arms around her middle, picked her up and squeezed her like a toddler with his new teddy bear. Ginny laughed and hit him in the arm playfully until he set her on her feet again.

"Gee, I bet I'll miss you doing _that_ to me every night before I go to bed.' She laughed sarcastically.

Ron smiled and shrugged. "Not my fault you're light. You want hugs, you get consequences."

"Ron, it's a hug, not an indictable offence.' Said Ginny, giving him a look.

"It is when it's in public.' Said Ron, looking around nervously.

Ginny snorted, rolled her eyes and gave him one last peck on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, big brother. Don't go running a muck without me here to supervise.'

Ron shook his head. "Wouldn't dream of it, Gin."

She smiled, gave Ron a wink…and then turned to Harry.

Harry stiffened awkwardly, not knowing how he should carry out his farewell ritual. Should he hug her? Or would that imply something he didn't want to insinuate? Should he shake her hand? Or would she be offended by his blasé-ness? Should he open with a joke? Should he promise to write? Should he just run in the opposite direction? He didn't have any time to decide, for a split second after looking at him she was in front of him, looking up at him expectantly.

Hermione cleared her throat, reached over and tugged on Ron's sleeve. "Come on, let's go talk to Neville."

As the two of them walked off to give them privacy, Ginny slipped her hands in her back pockets and looked over at the train. "So…this is it."

Harry nodded stupidly. "Yep."

"We won't be seeing one another for four months."

"Nope."

Ginny laughed disbelievingly and shook her head. "And here I was thinking I was saving the best goodbye to last."

"No, don't think that…I'm sorry.' He said, trying to get her to look at him. 'It's just that being here…watching you get on that train…"

"You could be coming back too, you know.' She said, giving him a look. 'You could have done all your hero work at Hogwarts with…us.' She said, adverting her eyes.

Harry shook his head. "There's too many distractions at Hogwarts. If I thought I could do all this and still be up there you know I would in a heartbeat. But…I just don't think…"

Ginny smiled and put a hand on his arm. "It's alright, Harry. You don't have to explain it to me. Far be it from me to debate the work ethics and conditions of The Chosen One."

"Really?"

"Yes, really.' She laughed. 'It's just going to be strange, going to school without you guys there, is all. I don't know how to be at Hogwarts without any of you there with me. It's like taking a huge chunk of the fun out of the place."

Harry smiled and ruffled his hair. "Who knows, maybe you'll actually have a relatively _normal_ year this year. What, with me not there to cause chaos and school scandals and house rivalry and threaten people's lives and all."

Ginny laughed. "It's going to be boring this year then! What's life without a little chaos?"

Harry smiled. He loved the way she looked at things; with the glass half full. Other people would have been collapsing with relief at the thought of him not coming back. Since day one he had done nothing but attract evil and danger to the school; so much so he had begun to wonder if he was some sort of jinx. He knew that some people would be glad he wasn't coming back, thus eliminating the threat of danger upon Hogwarts. But Ginny seemed sad at the loss of excitement, as if trips to the Department of Mysteries and tackling Death Eaters that had snuck into the school were the reason she got out of bed in the morning.

She pursed her lips and exhaled slowly. "It feels so weird, gearing up to get onto this train without you."

"It was going to happen eventually,' he said, 'its just happening a year early."

"Doesn't make it any easier.'

The whistle of the train blew again, signaling everyone to start to board. Ginny and Harry looked around as parents began ushering their children on board hurriedly, kissing and hugging farewell.

Ginny turned back to face him. For a moment they just looked at one another, both caught in another of their indecisive moments, before Harry did the only thing that made sense; he opened up his arms. Ginny frowned in relief and wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing her cheek into the crook of his neck and inhaling his scent. Harry closed his arms around her and held her close, resting his cheek on the top of her head. He could feel eyes on him and guessed that people on the train were no doubt watching, but he didn't care. He had her in his arms and he didn't want to let her go, even though he knew he had to.

"I'll miss you.' She said, snuggling into him.

"I'll miss you too.' He said, rubbing her back. He knew they shouldn't be this close. He knew that it was like taking one step forward and two steps back in their 'break-up', but nothing seemed more important at that moment. She was leaving for school, and he wasn't going to see her again for months. That was agony, break-up or no break-up. He rubbed her arms and pulled back, giving her a smile. 'But I'll see you at Christmas, and we'll be writing to one another."

Ginny tried to smile. "Still isn't the same."

"No, it isn't."

"Ginny!' called Mrs. Weasley suddenly. Harry and Ginny broke apart, and looked around to see Mrs. Weasley beckoning furiously.

Ginny nodded in recognition and turned back to Harry. "I have to go."

"Yeah, I know."

"I wish I didn't."

"Yeah, I know that too. But Hogwarts is the safest place for you now."

"Yeah,' she smiled, taking his hands in hers, 'I know."

Harry laughed.

"Ginny, hurry up!"

"Yeah, _alright_, Mum!' called Ginny over her shoulder. She sighed impatiently and looked back at Harry. 'Take care of yourself, will you? The last thing I need is to read about you having a mental breakdown on the cover of the Daily Prophet."

Harry smiled and nodded. "I promise. And don't you worry about everything here, alright? Just keep focused on your studies and those Quidditch games, _Captain_."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh please, the only reason I got that position was because you and Ron weren't coming back."

"Regardless of how you got it, you deserve it.'

"The only problem now is to find a seeker with even half the amount of talent you possess in your little finger."

"You'll find someone."

"Yeah, like Arthur found the Holy Grail."

"_Ginny!_" called Mrs. Weasley over the whistle of the train.

The train blew out another gush of steam, ready to depart. In a flurry of panic, Ginny grabbed Harry's face in her hands, pulled him down and planted a kiss smack on his lips. Harry's eyes widened in surprise, but just as his mind screamed at him to respond she broke away. Panting, she gave him an intense look, and in a whirl of red hair she spun on her heel, ran up the platform and jumped into the train, slamming the door shut behind her.

The train lurched, sent out another billowing puff of steam and then began to move. In a daze, Harry pushed his way through the crowd of people waving the train off to the front, running along side the train as it picked up speed. He ran right along side it, watching the silhouette of red hair through the window as it made its way down the corridors, looking for a compartment. He skidded to a halt as he ran out of platform and waved as the train rolled away, and continued to wave until it had disappeared around the corner and out of sight.

He let his hand flop down and sighed, watching the space where the train had been long after it had disappeared. He slouched and put his hands in his pockets, feeling very pouty all of a sudden. It was like knowing there was a party happening but not being invited to it; he felt as though he were being left out of all the fun. That all his friends were off to some glorious fun park of some sorts to have a wonderful time and he was forced to stay home, do his homework and save the world.

Hermione sidled up beside him but he didn't look at her, just kept his eyes on the horizon. She smiled and folded her arms over her chest. "You know, I seem to remember a certain young, red-headed girl running along side the train like that when she was little, waving farewell to her one and only true love as he rode off into the sunset."

Harry gave her a look. "Do you even know _how_ to shut up?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not that I know of."

Harry smirked at her.

"Come on, you,' she laughed, grabbing his arm, 'let's go get some lunch."

-----------

Harry flopped down in the chair with an inward grunt of relief. He slouched, stretched his feet out and rubbed his forehead, feeling tired from some inexplicable reason. After leaving Kings Cross, the three of them had decided to find a place in London to have lunch. They'd finally found a small little café near Trafalgar Square where they could sit outside and enjoy the warm weather.

Ron sat down at the little square table to Harry's left, and Hermione slung her jacket over the chair on Harry's right.

"Right, what do you two want?' she asked.

"Something big, beefy and hot.' Said Ron, his eyes widening.

"I don't think they sell Pamela Anderson here, Ron, but I'll enquire.' Said Hermione. 'Harry, what about you?"

Harry smiled at Ron's expression and shrugged. "I don't know…whatever you're having."

"What if you don't like what I'm having?' said Hermione, grabbing her purse.

"Then you'll be having second servings.' Smiled Harry.

Hermione rolled her eyes and made her way inside to order their food.

Ron let out a loud, dramatic sigh and linked his hands behind his head. "Some morning, eh?'

"Yeah,' said Harry nodding absentmindedly, 'some morning."

"I think Mum was ready to pack herself in Ginny's suitcase with the way she was fretting.' Laughed Ron, shaking his head. 'She was like that on Bill's last ever train ride, and Charlie's as well. I don't think she saw the need to fuss over the rest of us though thank _Merlin_! Did you see the looks Ginny was getting? Ha! I'm glad I wasn't in her position this morning."

Harry smiled and looked out into the busy streets of London. "Yeah, me too."

Ron smirked at him. "I saw that goodbye you gave her. Seemed a little less platonic than I had been expecting."

"What of it?" said Harry quickly.

"Nothing! Just…wondering if maybe you were changing your mind about her, is all."

"My mind will never change about her, Ron.' Said Harry, looking back out into the street. 'That's the sodding problem."

Hermione walked back out of the shop again, carrying a food tray baring three bottles of lemonade, two chicken and salad rolls and one very large slice of Shepards Pie.

"Here we are – healthy choices. I would have gotten you one, Ron, but I knew I wouldn't hear the end of it if I came back with a quiche instead of good, hearty amount of steak."

"Shut your nagging and just give me my food, will you?' said Ron, waving his hands impatiently. 'I'm going to decompose sitting here."

"You're _already_ decomposing.' Said Hermione, laying his plate in front of him.

Harry sat up as Hermione handed him his roll, gave her a smile and dug into it. He wasn't really fussed with what he ate; it was just an excuse not to talk. Putting food in his mouth gave him a plausible reason to stay quiet and let his mind wander. All he had to do was smile and nod at the appropriate times as Hermione and Ron discussed the events of the day so far.

He really should be used to this feeling, he mused as he chewed idly on his roll. All his life he'd felt that stinging tug of loss as he watched one person leave after the other. When he was little, about five, he had found a little bird under Aunt Petunia's Agapanthus bush while playing with his toy soldiers. He'd taken it inside; put it in a spare shoebox he kept his socks in under the stairs and looked after it without anyone being any the wiser. It had been only a chick, obviously starved, for it never made any noise, and Harry had loved it instantly. He had fed it crumbs from every meal he was given, given it drops of water from his juice cups and kept it warm underneath the small light globe that hung from the ceiling. But, as the chick grew older and stronger it began to make its presence known, and Uncle Vernon had discovered it one morning while walking past Harry's cupboard on his way out the door. Despite Harry's tearful protests, Uncle Vernon had taken the bird and thrown it out the window. Harry had watched in horror as the bird flapped its wings sloppily but, luckily enough, flew off into the street without so much as a backward glance.

"If I _ever_ catch you with something like that ever again, boy, I'll flay you within an inch of your life!' his Uncle had bellowed, locking Harry back in his cupboard. Harry had cried for the rest of that day, mourning the loss of his first ever friend.

At school, a few of the other children had initially been brave enough to start a friendship with Harry, but were soon scared off by Dudley's looming presence and impending threat of a whack in the face if anyone were ever caught in the same company of his cousin. At such a young age, Harry hadn't known whether to be depressed for being so alone, or angry for people not finding it in themselves to stand up to his buffoon of a cousin.

And then, of course, there were the more recent departures. Watching Sirius leave on Buckbeak in his third year only after just finding out the truth, watching Remus, the only other connection he had had to his father, leave not a day later, Cedric being killed in fourth year, Sirius being killed in fifth year, Dumbledore being killed in June, Ginny leaving just half an hour ago…

Harry sat back in his seat, clutching his bottle of lemonade tightly in his hand. It seemed his whole life had been one long, endless string of loss. From his parents at a time when he couldn't even remember, right up to Ginny that morning. He'd watched people walk in and out of his life as casually as people were walking in and out of the small café to his right. It just wasn't good enough. When was it going to end? When was he going to be able to feel safe and secure about the people he loved sticking around until he was old and grey?

Harry looked up at his two best friends, feeling another wave of reckless determination take hold of him.

"…think you'd be happy not to be getting homework.' Ron was saying, looking at Hermione in disbelief. 'Isn't researching the Founders and Horcruxes and Voldemort _enough_ work for you? You want more stuff to stress over, do you?"

"All I'm _saying_ is that it's going to be strange not having to work to deadlines anymore.' Said Hermione, giving Ron a look. 'No more essays, no more late nights at the library, no more stressing over grades…"

"Yeah,' said Ron happily, leaning back in his seat with a dreamy expression, 'its going to be heaven not having to worry about any of that anymore."

"You never worried about any of it in the first place.' Smiled Hermione.

Ron scoffed in mock indignation. "How _dare _you! Don't you know my day isn't complete without at least three hours of research and revision?"

"Well, then, I'll have to find more books on the Founders for you to read then, wont I?' said Hermione with a smirk. 'I can't very well let your days go by without meaning or purpose."

"Oh, I _hope_ your joking.' Said Ron, looking scared.

"Of course I am. Cant you tell when I'm joking by now?"

"No, I can't. See, it happens so rarely it takes me a moment to figure out what it is you're actually doing."

Hermione threw him a look. "Well, who can get a witty comment in edgewise when you're throwing around sarcasm like a hot potato all the time."

"Don't be jealous of my gift, Hermione. Sometimes it can be a curse."

"So can a Babbling Charm – something I think you were given at the hospital by a drunk nurse-in-training."

"And what did the nurse do to you? A Solemnity Charm?"

"My nurses were Muggles you half-wit."

"I want you guys to move in with me."

Ron and Hermione both looked around as Harry's soft comment suddenly cut through the conversation like a whip. He was looking into his lap, cradling his lemonade bottle on his left knee while the other bounced up and down under the table. Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance.

"Harry…' breathed Hermione.

Harry looked up at them over the top of his glasses. "Yes, Hermione, I'm completely serious. I want you two to move in with me."

Ron looked at Harry in humorous surprise. "What brought this up then?"

"Well, you guys are over all the time anyway.' Said Harry, sitting up a little. 'Makes sense, doesn't it? This way we can all just…be together. Like at school."

Hermione and Ron exchanged another look, and Harry knew that they were silently wondering what had really caused this sudden decision. But Harry didn't care; he just wanted them living with him. He wanted it official – the three of them together.

Ron laughed and sat back in his seat. "Well, I'm in. Considering you have a room for me, of course."

Harry grinned, barely able to contain his happiness. "You know I do."

"Excellent."

"Your Mum won't mind?"

"Are you kidding? Of _course_ she'll mind!' Laughed Ron. 'She'll probably go ballistic when I tell her. But it's not up to her now. I'm a grown man, of age, and if I want to move out of the house I bloody well will."

Harry smiled, but felt a little reluctant. "Are you sure? I don't want to come in-between you and your Mum…"

"She'll get over it.' Laughed Ron, giving Harry a reassuring look.

Harry nodded, mentally ticked that off his list, and looked at his other best friend. "Hermione? What about you?"

But Hermione didn't look as eager as Ron. She was biting her lip, looking at Harry nervously as if afraid he was about to yell at her. Harry didn't miss her reluctance, and felt disappointment begin to overshadow his excitement.

He nodded knowingly. "You're not going to."

"Oh, Harry, its not that I don't want to…' she said, her tone pleading for understanding. 'It's just difficult. Complicated."

"How is it complicated?' asked Ron. 'You just said you wanted to."

"And I _do_.' Said Hermione earnestly. 'I just…I don't think I should at the moment. Its not the right place for me."

Harry frowned. "Are you worried about safety? Because no-one knows where to find Grimmauld Place but us…"

"No, it's not _my_ safety…it's my parents.' Said Hermione softly. 'They have no protection against magic, and if they ever get tangled up in anything because of me…' she trailed off and ran her fingers through her bushy locks.

Ron and Harry exchanged a look. They honestly hadn't thought about what Hermione must have been going through. Both their families could defend themselves from any Death Eater attacks, but Hermione parents were muggles with not a drop of magic in their blood. If they were to be in the middle of something…

Harry caught Hermione's eye with a determined look. "You know we would never let anything happen to them, Hermione."

"Yes, I know.' Said Hermione, giving him a small smile. 'But all the same…just for now…I think I should be with them."

Ron gave her a supportive smile. "We understand."

"Do you?' she said, looking utterly relieved.

"Sure we do.' Said Harry. 'Just know that my door is open to you anytime of the day or night. Don't knock, just come over. What's mine is yours and so on and so forth."

Hermione smiled at both boys, her eyes welling up. "Oh, you two…'

"Oh, now, don't start with the water-works.' Said Ron, throwing a napkin at her. 'Or we'll be glad you decided not to move in with us."

"With compassion like that, it's a wonder I didn't, isn't it?' said Hermione sarcastically.

Harry smiled, feeling much for satisfied that he had at least cemented one of their fates in his mind.

------------------

Lily took the stairs two at a time, not even looking up from her large book. She knew the layout of the house so well now she felt she could navigate its halls in the dead of night. It was a little disturbing to know that she could walk the halls of Sirius's old house as confidently as she could her own childhood home.

She walked up the hall toward Harry's room, turning the page of her book as she went. "Hey, Harry, have you read this book on Giants? It's amazing! Did you know that in the late fifteen hundreds three clans of Giants had overrun the south island of New Zealand? It took one thousand witches and wizards to banish them and get back control of the…_oh_.'

She stopped at the bedroom two doors up from her own to see the door wide open and Harry inside, casting charm after charm around the room. He was standing in the middle of the room, waving his wand around like an orchestra conductor organizing his musicians. The curtains opened and flapped, ridding themselves of dust, a broom swept itself across the floor, the bed was making itself, books were staking themselves on the shelves, a duster was dusting every inch of the room…Lily had to bite back a smile as the scene reminded her of that bit in that cartoon movie The Sword In The Stone where Merlin was packing all his things in a single suitcase.

"What are you doing?' she laughed, shutting her book around her finger.

Harry looked at her over his shoulder. "Oh, er…just cleaning up a bit."

"What in heaven's name for? We don't even use this room!"

"We do now."

"What for?" laughed Lily.

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but something over her shoulder caught his eye and he smiled. Lily frowned and looked around just as a large frame carrying four large rolls of paper under his arms squeezed past her into the room.

"Oh, sorry, Mrs. Potter!' laughed Ron, giving her a passing smile.

"Careful with that one.' Laughed Harry, stepping aside to let Ron pass. 'She's a valuable piece of furniture."

Lily just watched as Ron climbed up onto the bed and began putting up his Chudley Cannon posters. She felt very out of the loop suddenly. "Er…am I missing something here? What's going on?"

Ron looked around at her, and then frowned at Harry. "You didn't tell her? You _idiot_! You said you'd tell her!"

"I didn't get around to it!' said Harry defensively.

"Tell me what?' cried Lily.

Harry gave Ron's glare a look and then smiled at his mother. "Ron's moving in with us."

Lily's eyes widened and she looked at Ron, smiling at his anxious expression. "Oh, I see!"

"Is that alright?' said Ron quickly. 'I mean, if it's not alright by you…'

"No, of course it alright honey, don't be silly.' She laughed, giving him a reassuring smile. 'It's just a surprise, is all! Harry, you didn't even give me any warning! If you had said you were going to ask him I would have done all this for you this morning."

Ron laughed and walked back out of the room as Harry ceased his spells. "It was a spare of the moment thing actually. It just kind of…slipped out."

Lily smiled at him. "Are you feeling protective?'

"So what if I am?' said Harry quickly, looking away to hide his blush.

"Nothing! Its cute, that's all."

Harry kept his eyes on the floor, but Lily could see a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Ron came back into the room with a large box in his arms and a smile on his face. "I can't believe I'm actually going to be sleeping in a room without a ghoul rattling the pipes above me. Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Potter."

"As long as my snoring doesn't bother you I think you'll be fine in here.' Said Lily, stepping aside to let him past. 'And it's 'Lily'."

"Okay, Mrs. Potter." Smiled Ron, putting the box down.

CRACK.

"Harry Potter Sir!"

Harry only had a second to register what the sound had been before he was sent crashing to the floor by something small throwing itself at him, hitting him square in the midriff. Harry let out a cry as he landed hard on the floorboards. He tried to suck in breath, but something had him in a tight grip around the middle.

"Harry, what on _earth_…' cried Lily, looking down at him in alarm. 'What's going on? Who is that?'

Harry ignored both his mother's frantic questions and Ron's but-gusting laughter and half-grinned, half grimaced down at the thing hugging him. "Hello Dobby."

The little house elf looked up at Harry with wide red eyes, his bottom lip trembling on the verge of tears. "Oh, Harry Potter, is it true what Dobby has heard? Tell Dobby they are lies!"

"Well, that all depends on what you're heard.' Said Harry, throwing Ron a look to make him shut up. 'If it's that stupid rumor about me having secret affairs with Bellatrix Lestrange to gain inside information on Voldemort, then…'

"Oh, no, Sir!' cried Dobby, looking horrified. 'Dobby has heard from the other House Elves that Harry Potter is not returning to Hogwarts!"

Harry cleared his throat, looking at Dobby nervously in anticipation of what the House Elf's reaction would be once he found out that this wasn't just a rumor. "Listen, how about you let me get up and I'll tell you what's happening. But only if you promise me not to let anyone else know!'

"Oh, of course not, Sir! Dobby keeps Harry Potter's secrets!'

Dobby climbed off Harry and, with a wince, Harry got to his feet. He rubbed his backside where he had fell and sat down on the bed with a grunt. Dobby stood there in front of him, twisting his hands anxiously with an expression of awe and excitement on his face.

Harry sighed and ruffled his hair. "So…you noticed I wasn't at dinner then?'

"Dobby was helping set out the plates, and Dobby didn't see Harry Potter anywhere.' Said Dobby softly, scratching his bat-like ears. 'Dobby started to wonder if perhaps Harry Potter was still on the train like last year, or was taking another car to school…but then Harry Potter didn't come in at all! Dobby had to come…to see if Harry Potter was alright…'

"See?' chuckled Ron, waving a hand at Dobby. 'Someone noticed your big boofhead missing!"

Harry threw Ron a look. "Dobby, you remember Ron."

Dobby gave Ron a low, sweeping bow. "Dobby does, Sir. Harry Potter's Wheezy…the thing Harry Potter would miss the most…at the bottom of the lake!"

"Hmmm…should have _left_ him down there.' Muttered Harry, glaring at Ron's smirk. Ron was just having too much fun. He looked back at Dobby, but Dobby wasn't looking at Harry or Ron anymore.

"Hello, miss.' Said Dobby, looking at Lily with curious eyes.

Lily gave him a small smile. "Hello."

"Er…Dobby, this is…a cousin of Ron's.' lied Harry quickly. 'She's just visiting for a while. I'm letting her stay with me."

Dobby smiled at Lily and gave her another bow. "Pleasure to meet a friend of Harry Potter's, miss!"

Lily smiled; fascinated to finally be able to meet the famous House Elf that had both put Harry in and gotten Harry out of danger. "You too, Dobby, you too!"

Harry let out a small breath of relief. He'd been afraid that Dobby would suspect foul play, but obviously the little Elf trusted Harry enough to take his word as gospel.

"So, Dobby…' said Harry, beckoning his little friend over again. 'How was the opening feast?"

Dobby's smile vanished and his ears drooped. "Oh, it was most sad, Harry Potter. Everyone is missing Professor Dumbledore. Harry Potter was not the only person missing from the feast tonight."

"Who else wasn't there?' asked Ron.

"Older students, Master Wheezy. They is not wanting to come back. Dobby did not see his old Master Malfoy either."

"No, you wouldn't.' said Harry darkly.

Lily sat down beside Harry. "Who's teaching Defense against the Dark Arts this year?"

Dobby brightened up and, to Harry's confusion, beamed at Ron. "Professor Wheezy! He will make a good Professor, Dobby thinks!"

Ron frowned at Dobby. "What?"

"Professor Wheezy!' said Dobby, beaming again. 'He has said to Dobby that Dobby may help in classes sometimes! Dobby is most glad to help in any way."

"Which Wheezy, Dobby?' asked Ron frantically.

Dobby's smile faltered. "William Wheezy…with the long hair like his sister…with the earring like his wife…'

Ron's eyes widened. "Bill?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Bill's teaching Defense?'

"Yes, sir!"

"_My brother, Bill_?' said Ron, looking panicky and outraged.

"You didn't know?' asked Harry incredulously.

"No, I bloody-well _didn't_ know!' said Ron, looking at Dobby as if trying to tell if the little creature was yanking his chain or not. 'He didn't tell _any_ of us that! Did he tell you guys?"

Lily and Harry shook their heads.

Ron sighed and shakily ran his hands through his hair. "Merlin's ghost…'

"I'll get you some Firewhiskey.' Said Lily, getting to her feet.

"I don't know if alcohol is the best solution here, Mum.' Whispered Harry, grabbing her hand. 'And on his first night here…'

"Hey, if he's going to be living here, he's going to do as the Potter's do.' Said Lily, taking her hand back. 'He's in my care now, and I'll calm him however I see fit."

Harry shook his head at her. "You're such a good parent…giving kids alcohol instead of words of encouragement…'

"They're already polishing my award.' Said Lily. And with that, she gave Harry's cheek a soft stroke and left the room.

Harry looked at Ron. He had his head in his hands and his shoulders were sagged. Harry understood what Ron was thinking. He didn't like to think of anyone he cared about in that job either; ever since he'd learnt of what Voldemort had done to the position, he held it in very low regard. All in that position had either lost their memory, gone insane, gone missing, been fired or died. Not the best track record. He could only imagine what was going through Ron's head now. For Bill to be in that job was one thing, but for him to go into it without telling any of his family…

"Has Dobby said something wrong, Harry Potter' said Dobby, looking nervous.

"Oh, er…no, Dobby, it's alright.' Said Harry, looking down at the elf. He gave Ron one last look and then turned his attention back to the creature in front of him. 'Okay Dobby, tell me everything that's going on."

------------------

_Lily watched from the doorway, her arms folded over her chest and a smile on her face as she looked upon her husband and son on the floor. James was on his back, lifting Harry up over his head like an airplane, waving him around playfully as Harry giggled his head off, his bright green eyes wide with delight. _

"_And here comes Potter! He's flying up the pitch, he's got the Quaffle!' laughed James, making the swishing noises of flying as he maneuvered Harry above him. 'He swerves left…he swerves right…he goes for the shot…he scores! Harry Potter, star chaser of the Gryffindor team scores his tenth goal for the match! And the crowd goes wild! AHHH!" _

_Harry giggled madly as James twisted him from side to side, tickling his chubby little sides. James laughed, brought Harry down and kissed him madly on the neck, blowing and play-biting as Harry continued to squeal in delight. _

_Lily loved watching them play together. Harry simply adored James and almost nothing seemed to make him happier than being in his father arms. James would always have time to play with him, never too busy or too tired. It was a different pastime every time the two of them got together. Today it was Quidditch; yesterday it was dragon bubbles from the end of James's wand, the day before it was Harry riding around the backyard on the back of a Stag. She wandered what tomorrow would bring. Another day of giggles and happiness; something they could not get enough of in these dark times. _

"_Oh, Lils!' cried James, sitting up as he spotted his wife in the doorway. _

"_I'm sorry; I didn't mean to interrupt this fine display of masculinity.' She smiled, coming into the room properly. 'Enjoying another male bonding session I see." _

_James laughed, cradled Harry to his chest and got to his feet. "Yeah, I thought we'd have a quick one before we had to leave." _

_Lily frowned. "Leave?" _

"_Yeah. Did you want to say good-bye to him quickly?' asked James, pushing his glasses back up the ridge of his nose. He looked at Harry, grabbed his little wrist and made Harry wave. 'Say bye to Mummy." _

"_Where are you going?' asked Lily, taking another step forward. _

_But James took another step back, his normally joyful expression suddenly going serious. "I have to take him." _

"_Take him? Take him where?' _

"_To our Lord.' Said James. He cradled Harry against him more tightly, looking at Lily as if she were an approaching enemy. 'You can't stop it." _

_Lily frowned, beginning to panic. "Our Lord? James, what the hell are you on about?' _

"_He wants us to see him, Lily.' Said James, taking another step backward. 'He wants us to go to him." _

"_James, this isn't funny anymore.' Said Lily angrily. 'Give Harry to me." _

_James backed up a little more from her outstretched arms, tightening his grip on Harry possessively. "You can't stop it, Lily. It's his destiny. It's _our_ destiny." _

_Lily let out a dry sob, feeling faint with panic. The room around her was growing darker, James and Harry were fading…fading into the darkness…she could barely see them… _

"_James?' she cried, trying to move. Her feet were planted to the floor. _

"_I'm sorry, Lily.' Said James, his voice an echoing whisper. 'The Dark Lord wants him. The Dark Lord needs him." _

"_James! James, don't go! Don't leave me here! James! JAMES!" _

"JAMES!" screamed Lily, sitting bolt upright.

She looked around madly, feeling confused and disorientated, her skin covered in a thin sheet of sweat as she breathed heavily. The bedroom was dark; streams of silver moonlight were filtering through the curtains. Her bedcovers were pooled in her lap and strands of red hair were sticking to her sweaty brow. She panted, her heart beating madly against her ribcage. The room was completely silent and empty.

Panicked, Lily threw the covers off her, leapt up out of bed and bolted from the room. She ran up the hall to the fourth door on the right, pushed the door inward and stopped dead.

Harry was lying in bed, his right leg and arm hanging loosely off the side of the mattress and his mouth wide open. His pajama top had ridden up in his sleep, exposing his belly and his covers were kicked off and pooled in a bunch at his feet. The room was silent, save for his light snores and Lily's heavy breathing.

Lily let out a sigh of relief and slumped against the doorframe, putting a hand to her heart. _He's alright_, she thought madly, trying to calm down. _He's okay…just a dream…just a nightmare… _

Tentatively, she walked into the room right up to his beside. She hugged herself and smiled down at him as he slept. Without his glasses on he looked even more like James. His black, tousled hair lay over the white pillow like a split ink stain. He had the same cheekbones, the same jaw, the same ears…it was eerie, like looking at a ghost.

Hesitantly, she reached out her hand and let it hover just centimeters from his face. She ran her hand down his cheek, over his shoulders and along his arm. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but didn't dare wake him. He had so few nights of restful sleep; it seemed cruel to disturb his peaceful slumber just for a moment of tactile reassurance. She put her forefinger and her third finger to her lips, blew him a small kiss and then backed out of the room, shutting the door behind her with a soft 'click'.

She went back to her room in something of a daze, feeling a heavy weight sitting on her heart. She stood in the middle of her room for a long moment, looking around but not really seeing. She looked at the bed, finding it empty. No James on his side of the bed, snoring his head off, muttering in his sleep about Quidditch, or reaching out for her to hold her close against or, or leaning over to kiss her and touch her in the only way he knew how. Lily's bottom lip trembled and she let out a sigh of sadness, surrendering herself to her grief. She missed him so much. It hurt like a burning hole in her heart that nothing could put out or fill. Nothing but him – the one thing in the world she couldn't have.

Lily crossed to her wardrobe and pulled the doors open. She pushed the clothes hanging on their hangers aside and moved inside to grab out something from in the corner, right at the back. She pulled it out and stepped out of the wardrobe, crossing over to her bed. She sat down in the middle of the mattress and unfolded the shirt in her arms. It was a brown, long sleeved shirt with frayed cuffs and creases in the arms where the sleeves had been constantly rolled up to the elbow. It was the first ever shirt Lily had bought James. She had given it to him on their first ever Christmas as a couple and he'd never worn any other piece of clothing more – he'd even worn it under his dress robes at their wedding. She'd found it back at their old house at Godric's Hollow, stuffed in the clothes hamper in their room, still waiting after sixteen years to be put into the wash. She didn't think she should feel guilty for going back to the derelict house they used to call home to find something of his. She'd just wanted something of his so badly…something that was just his…

Lily let out a sob as tears began to run down her cheeks. Not having the energy to bottle up her grief anymore, she hugged the shirt tightly to her, letting the shirt soak up her tears like James would soak up her grief with a hug. She lay down on the bed and snuggled up under the covers, laying the shirt out on the extra pillow beside her. She put an arm around the pillow and held it tightly, inhaling the fading scent of aftershave of James's shirt, letting it comfort her. Letting it give her a moment where she could pretend that James was still there with her.

* * *

A/N – A little bit of everything! I know it was kind of all over the place, but I think you need chapters like that sometimes, just to fill in the holes. Like it? Let me know!

Please review!


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23!

* * *

"Harry heads up!" 

Harry had barely turned his head to look around when someone slammed into him hard, knocking him and his assailant to the ground just in time for the curse that had been hurtling toward Harry go sailing past and hit the building behind them with a 'crack' of crumbling brick.

Harry sat up quickly in alarm, his heart pounding at the close call. He looked down at the person who had knocked him aside "Thanks, Tonks."

Tonks rolled her brown eyes impatiently and helped him to his feet. "Wake up!"

"I'm sorry, I was just…looking.' He said, ducking another spell.

"Well try looking at the Death Eaters firing curses at you, you twit!' she snapped, running off again.

Harry ducked another spell and ran off after her, throwing himself back in the action.

Like the week before it was complete pandemonium. Death Eater's were everywhere, and for every one that they stunned or detained it seemed two more apparated in. Muggle bodies were lying on the ground, distinguishable from their fellow magical victims only by their clothing. No-one had had time to process if any of them were actually dead, for they were all too busy defending themselves from the other side. Death Eater's were on top of roofs, ducking behind fences and actually breaking into the houses around them on the small, London street in attempt to escape capture by the Ministry. Order members, unlike the Ministry Aurors, didn't have any orders to stay in the street and were the only ones following Death Eaters into the houses. Muggle screams filled the air and clashed with the cries of spells, hexes and curses as they ran out of their houses and down the street to get out of the line of fire, clutching their children and loved ones close. Everyone Harry knew was in battle. Charlie was running off after a Death Eater, flinging hexes as they ran. Moody was taking on two Death Eaters, the use of his magical eye helping him keep a look out for a third. Tonks was shape-shifting into Death Eaters, making out she was one of them and stunning them as they weren't looking...

Harry dodged a green stream of light hurtling toward him, raised his wand and commanded '_Stupefy_' with all his mental ability. The nearest Death Eater ducked, but his comrade behind him was not so quick and copped the full-blow of Harry's spell. The first Death Eater straightened up and raised his wand at Harry, but…

"_Expelliarmus_!" cried a voice suddenly beside him.

Harry watched as the spell hit the Death Eater square in the chest and sent him flying into the air with a cry, landing on another nearby cloaked figure and knocking them both to the ground.

Ron laughed and clapped Harry on the arm. "Two Chasers with one Bludger! Not bad, eh?'

The two boys ducked another spell. Harry blindly fired a spell back over his shoulder in retaliation and pulled Ron down behind a bush for cover. Harry's eyes widened as he got a good look at his best friend.

"Ron, bloody hell!"

"What?'

"Your arm!"

Ron looked down at the large gash running down his left arm. Blood was oozing from it steadily, soaking his fingers and seeping under his fingernails. His shirt was completely ripped open, his face was filthy and his red bangs were sticking to his sweaty brow. There was a bruise on his cheek and he was bouncing gingerly on his ankle.

"Oh, this?' he laughed, examining his arm. 'Yeah, it stings."

"I would think so!"

"Don't worry, I'm alright.' He said, sneaking a peek over the top of the bush, but ducked back down quickly as another spell went flying past his ear, ruffling his hair. 'Merlin's beard, this is _insane!"_

Harry nodded and jumped as the bush shook violently with the force of another spell. "Tell me about it. But I don't fancy the ridicule we're bound to get at dinner because we were the only poofs hiding behind a bush."

Ron nodded. "I agree. Come on, let's go."

They waited a moment for the coast to be clear and then both ran out from behind the bush in opposite directions. Ron ran through the crowd, ducking and weaving as he went to where his father was currently in battle with two Death Eaters, and Harry ran over to Kingsley and Remus, both of them standing back to back, fighting off Death Eaters as they came at them one-by-one. Harry stopped a few feet away, spotting a Death Eater coming in from the side. He was striding forward, shoving people out of his way as he went; Kingsley and Remus hadn't seen him…

"_Stupefy!_" cried Harry.

Remus looked around, puzzled as the Death Eater crumpled to the ground in a heap. Remus stunned another Death Eater on the roof, sending the cloak figure tumbling to the ground and made his way over to Harry. He grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him away against one of the houses out of the street.

"Harry, are you alright?' he asked, looking at Harry in concern.

Harry shrugged Remus off him. "Of course I'm alright. I'm not a baby!"

"That's not what I meant!"

"Then why did you…"

"_DUCK_!"

Harry grunted as Remus put a hand on the top of his head and shoved him down, just quickly enough for a spell to sail over him and shatter the window behind them. Remus straightened up, waved his wand at the Death Eater who had fired at them and sent him flying into the wall, knocking him unconscious.

Remus glared. "This is ridiculous. Are you alright?"

Harry straightened up and gave Remus a look, rubbing the top of his head. "Yes, Remus, I'm fine."

"The reason I asked before was because I saw Tonks send you crashing to the ground before. What happened?'

"I just…zoned out for a minute.' Muttered Harry, rubbing his arm as he avoided Remus's eye.

Remus looked at him incredulously. "Zoned out? I'm sorry, are battling Death Eaters _that _boring for you?"

"_No!_ I was just…' he started angrily, but was cut off as Remus shielded them both from a flash of blue light. The spell reverberated off the shield, making the air vibrate dangerously around them and the spell go flying off into the street, hitting random people.

"Just what?' asked Remus quickly.

Harry didn't answer. He looked back out at the street, mentally blocking out the scene of fighting and destruction and death and going back to a time a few months ago when he'd seen this street for the first time in an old man's memories. He could still see it clear as day; watching the young Headmaster cross the road in his purple suit to the old, worn building across the street. The building with the small, bare courtyard and metal fence and no colour. Following him into the Orphanage that was just as dull on the inside as it was out. Following him up the stairs to the room with a small boy inside; a small boy with no friends or family or feeling…

"Harry, look out!"

Harry blinked, coming out of his daze just in time to see another spell coming toward him from the end of a very angry looking Death Eater not five feet away. With his seeker-like reflexes, Harry shoved Remus out of the way, turned sharply to the left to avoid the spell and fired back at the Death Eater. The Death Eater ducked Harry's spell, but was unprepared for Kingsley suddenly coming up behind him and stunning him. The Death Eater fell to the ground in a heap and Kinsley kicked his leg as if to say 'Ner ner'.

Remus ruffled his hair back into place and gave Harry a small smile. "Thanks."

"Anytime." Smiled Harry.

"I think they're backing off.' Said Kingsley, making his way over. He was rubbing his wrists as he looked around the street. 'We've got two in custody and there's one dead. Apparently he got in the way of the Killing Curse meant for one of the Muggles, stupid fool."

Harry looked around. Indeed, the scene seemed to be dying down a little. The Death Eaters were backing away from the scene, apparating and running off as more and more Auror's showed up. Some however, seemed only to be enraged by this fact, and began throwing curses everywhere.

"Any muggle fatalities?' asked Remus.

"We won't know until we can secure the area.' Said Kingsley regretfully. 'And it won't be secure until we can…"

But Harry's mind went blank to everything else but what had suddenly caught his eye. Coming out of the house beside the Orphanage was a family of three; a mother, father and little girl about five or six with a Death Eater on their tail. There looks of terror were not masked as they ran for their lives, the Death Eater laughing and jeering as he flung curses at their feet. Blind-hot rage erupted behind Harry's eyes as he watched, and his feet moved him forward, his grip tight on his wand.

"Harry?' said Remus, looking at Harry in concern. 'Harry, where are you going?"

But Harry wasn't listening. His strides quickened as the father, who was ushering his family forward, tripped over his own feet in his haste, sending him crashing to the cobbles street. The Death Eater laughed and raised his wand, ready to fire. The man scrambled backward on his back, terror in his eyes…Harry increased his pace but he wasn't going to make it in time… he wasn't quick enough…

In a split second of impulse, Harry took a leap into the air, disapparated with a 'pop' and instantly apparated in the space between the Death Eater and the muggle. Still in the middle of his leap, Harry whacked the Death Eater in the face. Stunned, the Death Eater mispronounced his spell, and the yellow streak of light hit Harry in the stomach and sent him crumbling to the ground in a heap.

Harry groaned, every muscle in his body feeling like jelly. He struggled to keep his eyelids open, but everything was going fuzzy and his eyes felt like lead under water. He could hear screaming, saw people crowding around him, but finally he gave into it and his world went black.

-------------

BANG.

"I can't _BELIEVE_ you!"

Ron jumped at the sound of the door banging open and looked around like everyone else in the room to see Hermione standing in the doorway, her face one of pure fury and her hair crackling with electricity.

He stood up from Harry's bedside and turned to face her properly. "Hermione, what…'

"You went _without_ me? Without _ME?_' she screeched, coming into the room. 'I can't _BELIEVE_ you, Ronald Bilius Weasley! Just because I'm not living with you two at this house does _not _mean…' Hermione shut her mouth suddenly as she suddenly realized what it was she had walked in on.

Harry was lying unconscious in bed, his chest bandaged up and his glasses sitting on his bedside table. Lily was sitting beside him, holding his hand tightly in hers and caressing the back of his hand were the words 'I must not tell lies' were engraved with her thumb. Remus was over by the window, his hands in his pockets and a worried expression on his face. Tonks was behind Remus, her arms wrapped around his middle comfortingly. All of them were looking at Hermione as if she had lost her mind, which she supposed she probably had.

"Harry…my _God_! Ron, what happened? Is he alright?' breathed Hermione, rushing to Harry's side.

"He's going to be fine.' Said Lily, giving Hermione a teary smile. 'He just took a blow to the chest, is all. Cracked his ribs, broke his ankle and he was knocked out when he hit the ground."

Hermione shook her head, running a hand soothingly through his jet black hair. 'How did this happen?"

Tonks smiled. "He was playing the hero, how else?"

"Come on,' said Ron softly, taking Hermione's arm, 'you can finish your ranting out here.'

Silently, Hermione gave Harry's expressionless face one last glance before Ron pulled her out of the room and out into the hall, shutting the door softly behind them with a 'click. He led her up the hallway a bit toward the stairs before letting her go.

"Alright, proceed.' He said, bracing himself.

But she didn't say anything. She was looking at him with wide eyes, taking in the state of him. He looked absolutely terrible. "_Ron_…"

"Oh, now, don't you start.' Said Ron, slapping her hand away as she went to touch his bandaged arm. 'I've already had Mum blubbering over me like an idiot and I don't need you doing it either."

"But…"

"But what? Its fine! Look, see?' he said, flexing his arm at different angles. 'Doesn't even hurt!"

Hermione's eyes welled up with tears, and Ron cringed inwardly at the thought of what would happen if the floodgates opened. But instead of breaking down into tears, her face contorted into fury again and she hit him angrily in the arm.

"Ow! Geez!' he cried, rubbing his shoulder. 'What the hell was _that _for?"

"For leaving me behind, you great lubbocks!' she cried loudly, her anger which had been momentarily forgotten at the sight of Harry and Ron's injuries coming back in full force. 'You can't just leave me behind! You can't just _do_ that, Ron! It's not fair!"

Ron frowned. "So, you _wanted_ to come to a Death Eater battle where you could have been killed?'

"Yes!' she yelled angrily.

"You know, in the seven years I've known you I've never understood your strange, female ways.' He said, shaking his head at her in disbelief. 'And I really don't think I ever will."

Hermione threw her arms up in the air and began pacing. "I can't BELIEVE you!"

"Yeah, we've established your disbelief, Hermione!' retorted Ron irritably. 'This isn't a personal thing, alright? Moody happened to be having lunch with us when he got the summons. There wasn't any time to come and get you!"

"There's _always_ time, Ron.' Snapped Hermione, her eyes narrowing. 'You just had to apparate over!"

"And let more people be in danger just for the sake of collecting you?' retorted Ron irritably.

Hermione let out a huff and continued to pace in an angry silence. She was hurt, Ron could see it as plain as day, but what could he do about it? In the history of their entire relationship he had not yet worked out how to douse the flames of fury within her, and he didn't think the solution would just suddenly come to him now.

Ron frowned and rubbed his bandaged forearm tenderly. "How did you find out about it anyway?"

"On the television.' She said shortly. 'I was reading a book about the Founder's on the sofa and there was a news bulletin, saying that there was some sort of struggle going on in a street in Stockwell with strange flashes of light and cloaked figures.'

"Okay, so, remind me…feletision is the one you listen to or the one you look at?"

Hermione rolled her eyes with an impatient groan and stopped her pacing in front of him. "Do you know what its like to find out that your friends are fighting for their lives on muggle television? To hear a muggle newsreader talking about it as if it were just some strange, fireworks phenomena going on in some random street for no really important reason? Do you know how I felt? How worried I was? What I was…"

She trailed off and put a hand on her forehead, taking deep breaths to try and compose herself. Ron pursed his lips, wishing her eyes wouldn't well up like that. He both wanted to turn away from them in shame and wipe them away with his thumb, but he stood still and let her rant, her words now more emotional and upset than mad.

"We're meant to be in this together, Ron.' She said softly, her voice cracking. 'You, me and Harry, not Harry and whoever's closest at the time.

"I know, you're right.' He said, putting a hand on her arm to try and comfort her. 'We're insensitive prats who deserve all our bruises and bandages."

The corner of Hermione's mouth twitched and she gave in to the tiniest of smiles. Ron grinned down at her, patted her on the pack and gave her a small hug.

"I'm still mad." She said, giving him a look.

"So? What else is new?' he laughed, giving her a playful shove.

Hermione smiled and hugged herself, rubbing her arms as she gave Ron another look. Her smile faded and her gaze intensified, and Ron found himself blushing on the end of it. He squirmed, wanting to vanish.

She pursed her lips. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, Hermione, I'm fine.' He insisted softly, nodding. 'Bit knocked around, but…'

"What about Harry? I mean, I know Mrs. Potter said he was going to be okay, but…'

"He'll be fine.' Said Ron. 'Although he won't be find after the flogging I give him. What a wanker, jumping in front of a Death Eater like that!"

Hermione smiled and grabbed his arm. "Come on, we can sit next to him and when he wakes up we can yell at him together."

------------

Bill loved that feeling of walking in your front door after a long day a work.

He wiped his feet on the doormat before crossing the threshold and shutting the door behind him. He hung his cloak up on the coat stand, kicked his boots off and dragged his feet determinedly through the living room the kitchen. He'd had a hard first day at school and was in need of a long, dry Butterbeer.

Yanking the icebox open, he leant heavily against the door and examined the contents inside. Ice-mice… chocolate frogs… salad… moudly, five week old cheese… fireworks… rubber chicken… apples…

"William Arthur Weasley!"

Bill groaned and shut his eyes, wishing he'd chosen to stay up at the castle for dinner. He heard quick footsteps descend the stairs, and then he was yanked back by the back of his shirt and forced to turn around.

"Hello, Mum, wonderful to see you.' He said, deadpan as he looked down at the furious woman in front of him.

Mrs. Weasley glared up at her eldest son. "Don't you patronize me, William. I'm not in the mood."

"I imagine you wouldn't be, what after spending the afternoon battling Death Eaters.' Said Bill, walking around his mother. He made for the back door, ready to go for a walk, maybe find Fleur out in the paddock where she always liked to sit as the sun went down…but the back door slammed in his face as if pushed closed by an invisible hand. Bill sighed and leant against the door. 'Mum, what is it now?"

"I want to talk to you.' Said Mrs. Weasley, pocketing her wand. 'Sit down."

"I'd rather not."

"Fine, stand then. But we are going to talk."

Bill let his head drop back, feeling very tired. He turned around to face his mother, not having the energy to discuss what it was he knew she wanted to discuss. "Mum, I'm tired, I'm hungry, and all I want to do is see my wife."

Mrs. Weasley sat herself down at the bench determinedly. "Just for a minute, Bill.

"No, see…you don't know the definition of 'just a minute'.' Said Bill, giving her a false smile. 'What you want to do is sit me down and demand to know why I didn't tell you I took up the job at Hogwarts, and demand to know what I was thinking by taking such a job on at a time like this, and what was in my brain when I agreed to put myself into a job that's rumored to be jinxed."

Mrs. Weasley looked startled. "Well, now that you mention it…"

"Well, you know what? I don't have to excuse my choices to you, Mum.' Said Bill shortly. 'I am a grown man now. A _married_ man. And I do _not_ have to defend my own decisions to my mother!"

"Don't speak to me like that, young man.' Said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes narrowing. 'Not while you still live in this house."

Bill clenched his jaw and looked at the ceiling. He wanted to snap back at her, but his last shreds of parental respect held him back. If Fleur was there, he knew she would have given his mother the old 'what is ziz, you say?' bitchy comment in his defense; but Fleur wasn't there, and Bill had to keep silent.

"But since we're on the subject…' said Mrs. Weasley, trying to grab his eye. 'Perhaps you could enlighten me as to why you took this job."

Bill shrugged. "Change of scenery? Better pay? I don't know, what do you want me to say, Mum?"

"All I want to know is _why_, Bill!' said Mrs. Weasley desperately. 'You've always seen so happy with what you were doing. You never mentioned anything about a change of career!"

"This isn't a change of career. It's only for this year and then I'm out again.' Said Bill.

"And what about Gringotts?"

"I'm on sabbatical until June."

Mrs. Weasley sighed and rubbed her grubby face. "And Fleur's alright with this is she?"

Bill bent over the bench, resting his elbows on it and ran his fingers through his ponytail. "Well, she did have a pink fit when I told her I was going to go teach, but she's alright with it now. Kept going on about how 'you should not be goin' to zat place now adayz, Bill!' and that 'it ez too danzerous, Bill!' or 'what aboot _me_, Bill?'. It took a lot of convincing to get through to her, and for the sake of argument and my last shreds of sanity I'm going to tell you what I told her. This position isn't in the normal job description. I don't sleep on campus, nor do I eat there, supervise Quidditch matches, do patrols at night or chaperone Hogsmeade visits unless I am specifically needed. My hours are strictly school hours. Nine in the morning until half past three in the afternoon – that's it. I get up, I get ready for work, I apparate over to Hogwarts, I teach, I do some paper work and I come home. That's my day. Five days a week. I don't eat there and I don't sleep there. I took this job on the condition that I could come home to my family at the end of the day."

A deafening silence rang through the room as Bill fell silent. He looked at his mother defiantly, as if daring her to comment on his decisions. But she just sat there, looking at him with a curious expression, and if quite unable to believe who it was she was actually looking at.

After another long moment, Mrs. Weasley put a hand to her chest. "You…you made those conditions clear when you applied?"

"Well, see, there's the thing. I didn't actually apply.' Said Bill, finally sitting down. 'In all honesty, I really had no desire to go and teach at Hogwarts. I mean, sure it's a great opportunity and Merlin knows how much I love that castle…'

"How did you end up getting it then?' asked Mrs. Weasley.

"McGonagall offered it to me after one of our Order meetings.' Said Bill, rubbing his scarred face.

"Well if she knew your hesitation why did she come to you first?"

"She _didn't_ come to me first.' Said Bill. 'She went to Tonks first. She thought, you know… Auror, charismatic, fun, able to relate to kids, puts up with Dark Arts everyday… would be a better choice. But Tonks turned her down, so McGonagall came to me."

Mrs. Weasley fixed him with a confused stare. "Then, Bill, help me understand why you took this job if you didn't want it in the first place."

Bill got to his feet and paced a little, wondering if there was the slightest chance he could change the subject. His reasons had been personal, kept even from Fleur. But if anyone had the right to know, it was his mother.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I took up the job so I could keep an eye on Ginny."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes widened. "You…Bill…'

"She's there by herself, Mum. No, Ron, no Harry, no Hermione, no Fred or George… no-one there for her to go to. She's my kid sister, and I want to be there for her like I haven't been in nearly eight years. Its bad enough we lost Percy, but to…' he trailed off, took a moment and shook his head. 'I just want to watch out for her, Mum, that's all. This job isn't some outreach for a new life, or some sort of post-traumatic stress syndrome. It's just me wanting to look out for my family."

Mrs. Weasley sighed, seeing suddenly the enormous stress her son had put himself under. "Oh Bill, sweetheart, why couldn't you just _tell_ us that?"

Bill sighed and looked out the kitchen window. "I don't know."

"Darling, come here.' Said Mrs. Weasley, getting up. She opened her arms up and hugged him, feeling his hesitate for a second before tightening his grip around her shoulders in response. 'You need to know you can still talk to us. Your father and I are both here, and so are your brothers and sister. Just because you're all grown up does not mean you have to be so secretive."

They broke apart and Bill smiled down at her. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."

"And I'm sorry for being so hysterical.' Said Mrs. Weasley, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. 'You just have to understand how worried we were when we found out."

"Yeah…how _did_ you find out?'

"Ron found out somehow."

Bill frowned and opened his mouth to say something, when the back door opened and Fleur walked in like a cool summer breeze blowing in flower petals. Bill smiled and felt his heart lift just at the sight of her. She flipped her blonde hair out of her face and blinked as she spotted Bill and Mrs. Weasley behind the counter, standing in close proximity.

"Oh, dear, I 'ope I am not inzerupting anysing." She said, giving Bill a secretive smile.

"No, of course not.' Laughed Mrs. Weasley, stepping away from Bill. 'Just a little mother-son bonding time, you know?"

"As I am wizout children, no, I am afraid I do _not_ know.' Said Fleur.

Bill laughed. "Trying to give me a hint?"

Fleur smirked "Not at all.'

Mrs. Weasley laughed and gave Bill a tap on the arm. "Listen, I'll be upstairs if you need me, alright? You two…you two have some time."

Bill smirked at her. "Thanks Mum."

Fleur put her hands on her hips and watched as Mrs. Weasley gave Bill one last kiss on the hand and left up the stairs and out of sight. Bill watched her leave, before turning around to look at his wife.

Fleur raised her eyebrows. "You 'ave told 'er?"

Bill nodded. "Yeah."

"She 'it the roof like you thought she would?'

"Yeah."

"You told 'er why you did it?"

"Yeah."

Fleur smiled, made her way over to him, too him by the arm and lead him toward the nearest chair. "Come, my love. Sit down and relax. I will make you a rare steak and you can tell me about your day."

----------------

Harry blurrily opened his eyes, the sharp edges of the room around him fuzzy with fatigue and the lack of his glasses. He wanted to put his glasses on and put the world back into sharper focus, but every muscle in his upper torso ached as if he'd been run over by a steamroller. His left ankle stung like it had been caught in a vice and his right hand throbbed with a graze he had yet to discover. The room was dimly lit, deafeningly silent and from what he could tell totally empty of company. Taking a few moments to blink away the lingering veil of sleep, Harry blew air out through his lips and turned his head to look at the clock on his bedside table.

But found his mother sitting next to him instead.

She was just _sitting_ there, one leg crossed daintily over the other, arms folded over her chest, eyes wide and alert and locked right on him. Her hair was down again, and it hung around her face like a curtain, displaying the beautiful features of her face. Had Harry had his glasses on, he would have seen how red her eyes were, and how every line in her face was etched with worry. But he didn't have his glasses on, so he simply gazed at her for one more moment, before he shut his eyes again tightly.

"Promise you'll still be there when I open my eyes.' He said. He waited a moment, listening and hoping with every fiber of his being that the promise would be kept. He exhaled slowly, hesitated and opened his eyes.

She was still there.

Harry exhaled in relief. "I was worried you weren't real. I'd dream about you by my side so many times…"

Lily took his glasses off the bedside table, leant over and slipped them carefully on his nose without a word, bringing his world back into focus. She sat back in her seat silently and continued to watch him, her lips parted slightly.

Harry groaned as he flexed his muscles. "Why am I so sore?"

"Because you almost died, that's why." Said Lily, her voice croaky.

"I…what?' stuttered Harry, confused.

Lily smiled in a humorless way and shook her head. "Harry, we really have to work on this growing hero complex of yours, as its getting rather out of hand."

"What are you talking about?"

Lily fixed him with a look that was so intense Harry had to fight the almost overwhelming urge to look away. He could now see how bloodshot her eyes were, and how splotchy her face was, and knew how hard she had been crying during his slumber.

"The Death Eater you jumped in front of…the one abusing that Muggle family…he used Avada Kedavra. When you jumped in front of that Muggle man, you absorbed the full force of the spell, and the only reason you're still alive is because he mispronounced the spell when you hit him in the face."

Harry blinked, completely gobsmacked. He hadn't known this information at all. What he had done had been completely on impulse and instinctive. He hadn't even considered what spell that Death Eater could have been using. The only thought in his mind had been to protect that Muggle…to protect that girl's father…to protect that woman's husband…

"Mum, I didn't…I wasn't…'

"You could have _died_ today, Harry. Do you have _any_ idea how that makes me feel?' said Lily, her voice low. "And what's worse, I wasn't even there. You could have died…and I wasn't even bloody there."

Harry kept silent and felt guilt wash over him. She looked to be only just holding herself together from bursting into tears again.

"You're angry.' He said. It wasn't a question.

Lily smiled without humor. "I was angry. I've been through worry, fear, anxiety, annoyance…'

"And where are you now?" he asked, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

Lily pursed her lips and looked at the end of the bed. "Sitting here beside you for the past four hours has given me a lot of time to think. It's given me time to stubbornly root myself in decisions that I'd been floating around for the past few weeks, and now that you're awake I can expect you to lie there and be silent while I tell you that we're making a few changes around here."

"Changes?"

"No talking."

Harry clamped his mouth shut.

Lily waited a moment to make sure she has his full attention, before continuing. "My days of sitting at home while you and everyone else go to fight in a war that I have as much of a right to be involved in as you do are completely over, as are my days of sitting around in general. When I go out, I'm going to be walking upright where anyone can see me and to hell with the consequences."

"But, Mum…'

"No talking!' she said quickly, giving him a look. Harry went silent again, although very reluctantly, and Lily went on. 'When we walk out this door, we're not going to bother with security, or worry about people seeing me, or looking over our shoulders every second hoping that someone doesn't walk into an invisibly barrier and cause I a riot. That's it. I'm done. No more of it, Harry. No more Invisibility Cloaks, no more spells, no more Disillusions. I'm going to be with you every step of the way in this, sonny-Jim…completely visible to the human eye. I am you mother and it's my God-given right. I want to be right by your side whenever evil rears its ugly head. I want to be standing next to you when you go off to fight, or when you go after another Horcrux, or even when you go down the road for some more milk. If you're going to war, I want to be there behind you, wand armed. If you're going to rally up people for your cause, I want to be there in the crowd, cheering you on. And if you're going die…heaven forbid…I want to be there to hold your hand."

"But…' stuttered Harry desperately, 'but what if He find out about you?"

"So what if he does?' challenged Lily. 'No-one's going to believe it's really me anyway. What's He going to do if he finds out? Kill me? Been there, done that!"

"But…but Mum…'

"No talking." She said, giving him a look.

Harry very reluctantly shut his mouth again.

'I get this defense mechanism you have, Harry. The only people you push away are the people you care most deeply about, and you push them away because you couldn't stand to be responsible for something happening to them, nor feel the burning pain of loss for them if they left. You're reckless because you don't know how to be cautious. You're impulsive because you don't know what it is to consider. And you're brave simply because you don't know how to be a coward. But you need to start thinking about yourself in a more respectful light, Harry. We all love you so much that sometimes it seems unnatural and wrong, and if something were to happen to you we would all be devastated. And not because you're the Chosen One, and that the world would go to hell simply because you did not kill Voldemort, because you're _you_, and because there's no-one else like you. You're far too important too be so blasé about your life! At times it may seem meaningless to you, I understand that. But rest in the knowledge that it is _not_ meaningless to us, and especially not to me."

Harry said nothing as she leant forward and took his hand, her hands boiling hot with emotion. He shivered at the look she was giving him, still uncertain after all these weeks together of how to respond to such raw intensity.

"You're life _is_ my life, Harry.' Said Lily. 'If I lost you…I'd have nothing. I'd _be_ nothing."

He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying desperately to say something to her. "I…I'm…' he stuttered, trying to respond. "I'm…I'm so sorry.' He finally whispered.

Lily swallowed back a sob and smiled, brushing his hair away from his scar. "No, you're not – it's who you are. And you shouldn't be sorry for who you are. You're just…' she sighed and laughed. 'You're just very _frustrating_ sometimes!"

Harry smiled timidly. "Yeah…I get that sometimes."

Lily laughed and kissed the back of his hand. Harry still found himself stumped by her proclamation, even after several minutes. He'd never really been able to grasp the concept that he actually really meant something to other people; an effect from his childhood, he supposed. He'd never had a mother to be worried about him, or to fret over him, or to sit by his bedside while he was sleeping off the effects of a sickness. He'd always had to take care of himself. _That's_ what was instinctive – doing what he thought was right. When he had jumped in front of that muggle man, he hadn't given a second thought to his own safety, or what anyone would think if he got injured. Being hurt and injured seemed to rather be a lifestyle for him now, nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe it had been selfish, but he'd never even considered the impact his actions would have on other people. Did Ron ever wonder what his father would think if he did a certain action? Did Hermione worry about what her mother would think? Did Remus worry about what Tonks would think? What was apparently instinctive to them seemed like a whole different way of thinking to Harry – something he would now need to work into his own lifestyle.

Harry bit his lip. "Have…have you really been sitting there for four hours?"

Lily shrugged and sat back in her seat. "Give or take a minute."

"Have Ron or Hermione come to see me?"

"Several times."

"How is everyone? Is Ron alright? Did anything happen to him?"

"No, he's fine as far as I know. Although his vitals may have changed after the verbal beating Hermione gave him."

Harry winced. "Oh…I suspect she's a bit ticked off, is she?"

Lily laughed. "She looked ready to spit nails when she barged in here, demanding to know why you insensitive prats didn't let her tag along. Expect her to be back here soon; ready to give you an ear bashing."

"I look forward to it.' Said Harry, deadpan. He looked at his mother until the smile slowly evaporated from her face. 'I really am sorry, you know. But…I _had_ to. He was going to kill him. You know I had to, don't you?"

Lily leant over him again and planted a soft, lingering kiss on his scar. "I know, sweetheart, I know. And I'm not mad, really… just as long as you're okay."

Harry nodded. "I feel like I've been run over by a heard of Rhino's, but otherwise I'm fine."

Lily folded her arms over her chest again and blew air out through her lips. "If you're father were here, do you know what he would have said about your behaviour today?"

Harry shook his head. "No. What would he have said?"

Lily smiled. "He would have said, 'Well done, my son. Now teach me how you did that apparition-jump thingy!'."

------------------

Hermione paced the room with an almost dreamlike speed, her mind anywhere and everywhere.

The room was dark, lit only by the light of the single candle sitting upon the top of the Grand piano by the window. It was one of the smaller studies upstairs, but Hermione had lately turned it into her own, self-proclaimed 'I'll Go Here and Pace Furiously While I Think for a While' room. As it was away from the other bedrooms and other high-frequency rooms within the house, she was rarely disturbed unless desperately needed. Everyone knew to keep their distance when Hermione locked herself away in this room.

Normally she could be very productive in one evening, her train of thought rarely letting her down. Earlier that evening, she'd been considering the significance between the Death Eater attack and the location of their offensive. She had very quickly realized that the street had been no random selection – it had been the street on which the Orphanage where Voldemort was born and grew up was situated. And yet, such an obvious link did not reveal an equally obvious reason for their presence. Had Voldemort wanted the street attacked as a statement? Had the Death Eaters rebelled against his orders? Was Voldemort keeping a Horcux there, and had he sent them to collect it? Was he onto their plans? Did he know that three of his precious Horcruxes were already destroyed? These thoughts and more like them had assaulted her brain at an almost dizzying pace, demanding to be analyzed and considered. But slowly her determination for brainstorming had dwindled to nothing, and now she was pacing for a whole other reason.

She was worried.

She was worried about everything. Worried about Harry, worried about Ron, worried about their secrets, worried about the Order, worried about Harry, worried about Ron, worried about Bill and his position at Hogwarts, worried about Ron…

It seemed an endless stream of worry, shoving aside all of her logic reasoning and taking a hold of her better judgment. She'd been on edge ever since the event at Hogwarts back in June, and the events of the day just passed seemed only to heighten her anxiety. Harry had almost been killed. Ron had been injured. It was all she could think about, like a loop running over and over in her mind. She saw images of Harry on his back on the ground, eyes wide open with a flash of green light…Ron bent over him, cuts and bruises all over him, crying not tears but blood…

Hermione shook her head and grunted with annoyance. She stopped her pacing and looked at her watch; just past three am.

_I should be in bed_. She thought, sitting down heavily on the piano stool. _Its late, everyone else is in bed already…I should just go home…try to relax… _

But she couldn't relax; that was the problem. She was too worried, too anxious and too on edge to have any sort of hope for a good nights sleep. Her back ached and her neck was sore, and every muscle in her body felt tight and tense. She was no stranger to these feelings, the occurred every year just before exams. But she was out of school now. She shouldn't be feeling this sort of stress anymore. Should she?

Hermione blew air out through her lips and looked around the dark room hopelessly. She sniffed and looked down at the piano beside her, lid up and keys exposed. Hesitantly, Hermione lifted her hand and placed the pads of her fingers softly against the cool, white ivory keys. She softly rubbed the smooth surface, but almost instinctively her middle finger pushed down and the piano rung with the note of G. Hermione jumped and looked around guilty as the sound vanished. Had she woken anyone?

_Don't be silly._ She thought, considering the keys. _Everyone's asleep downstairs, not up the hall…it was only quiet…_

Hermione looked at the closed door again, and then looked back at the piano. She flexed her fingers and then, very softly, played the scale of G major up to the next octave. She smiled, feeling that rush of excitement that she used to feel when she was a little girl at piano lessons. Feeling impulsive, she played G and G minor and with one last look over her shoulder, she turned around to face the Piano properly, put her other hand on the keys, straightened her back and began to play.

Soft, sweet music filled the walls of the room as Hermione played an old favorite. The piano was still perfectly in tune, even after all its years of neglect. For Hermione it was like slipping on an old, favorite pair of jeans. She stumbled around the keys a few times, but after a few moments finally got back into the rhythm of playing. Her long, slender fingers worked the keys like a dance, gliding over them gracefully. She smiled and bobbed her head along with the music, letting the slow, easy melody take over. Her mind went blank as she focused only on the notes. She pushed the pedals with her feet and pressed the keys with controlled pressure, letting the melody fill both the room and her mind. Her back relaxed, her muscles unclenched and her neck loosened, as if the very tune were massaging all the tension away.

And as she continued to play she realized that, amazingly, her mind was the quietest it had been in a long time.

* * *

A/N – Another jumbled bag of goodies! I hope you enjoyed it still, all the same! 

Please review!


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24.

* * *

It was late morning two days later when Harry finally came downstairs. The stone staircase down to the dining room was cold underfoot as he padded down in bare feet, dressed sloppily in his pajamas and his glasses sitting slightly askew on his nose as he yawned like a lion lazing in the sun after another successful hunt. 

Ron was already seated at the table, free from bandages, completely dressed and reading the Quidditch scores in the _Prophet_. Without looking up at Harry, he pushed a plate of pancakes toward the edge of the table. "Well, looked who finally decided to drag his lazy arse out of bed! Would the saviour of bed linen like some break-e-fast-en?" said Ron in a strange accent.

"Pass me that jug of apple juice and I'll forgive your smart-ass comment.' Said Harry, stretching to the ceiling.

Ron laughed, waved his wand at the pitcher of juice in the centre of the table and it began to pour into an empty goblet. "How you feeling?"

"Like shite.' Said Harry, twisting his torso from left to right. 'My back hurts from lying on it for so long and my ribs are still knitting back together. It's like someone decided to whack me in the side with a sledgehammer."

"Something Voldemort dreams of doing on a regular basis, I'm sure.' Said Ron, levitating the goblet of juice over to Harry.

Harry grabbed the goblet out of thin air and downed a large gulp. The cool liquid seemed to seep up through the roof o his mouth and sooth his throbbing headache. For not the first time that week, Harry had woken up with a surging headache that seemed almost inexplicable. He did, of course, have his theories of why this was so. He had strong suspicion that Voldemort was trying to pry into his mind again, and if this were the case, Harry would need to pull his finger out and do something about it.

"Bah, losers.' Muttered Ron, snapping Harry out of his daze. 'Lost again…ten to three hundred and forty! Bloody Harpies… nutty women on broomsticks…should be illegal…"

"Not all girls are nutters on broomsticks.' Said Harry with a smile.

Ron arched his ginger eyebrows. "If you're referring to my little sister, which I know you are, then yeah…she's no exception. If anything, she's the nuttiest of them all. She's the mascot. The poster girl. The face of Nutty Female Quidditch Players Anonymous."

Harry laughed and put his goblet on the table. "Okay, you made your point."

"Did she tell you about her team tryouts?' laughed Ron, sitting back in his seat. 'Total shambles! She still hasn't found a seeker to replace you."

"Cause its harder to find a replacement for such an outstanding player.' Said Harry with a sly grin. 'I imagine she had no trouble filling _your_ position."

Ron pursed his lips, his ears going red. "How'd you like to be back in your bed?"

Harry sighed and stretched his arms out. "No thanks. Two days was enough."

"Hey, speaking of being in bed…' said Ron, looking up from the paper again. 'Did you hear music late last night?"

Harry frowned. "Music?"

"Yeah, you know, that nice noise some people make."

"I know what music is you twit. What music are you on about is my question."

"I don't know.' Said Ron. 'I thought I heard music the other night real late, probably about two or three in the morning. Didn't you hear it?"

Harry shrugged. "No, I didn't hear anything. What sort of music was it?"

"It was piano. I thought maybe your Mum had a record on or something."

"Was it Frank Sinatra? Ray Charles? The Beatles? Cause she's always listening to them lot when she wants to relax."

Ron arched his eyebrows, a non-verbal exclamation that he had no idea who these people were, or why Lily would be listening to a bunch of bugs chirping to try and relax.

Harry sighed. "Was it up-beat? Jazz-like?"

"No, it was just…music. _Good_ music. Real nice and slow. Kind of classical."

"Can't have been Mum, she doesn't really listen to that sort of stuff.' Said Harry lifting up his foot and twisting to grab it, balancing on his other foot like a flamingo. 'Maybe you were dreaming."

"Yeah,' said Ron, shrugging it off, 'maybe."

Harry stretched his other leg in the same manner, then loosed up his muscles with a quick shake and put his hands on his hips. "Speaking of which…you seen my Mum today?"

Ron cleared his throat, ruffled his paper and held it up to hide his face behind. "Oh, yeah… she and Hermione went to Hogwarts about half an hour ago.'

Harry's mouth dropped open. "She went _WHERE_?"

"Yeah, the two of them are on this research kick at the moment. I think Hermione's enjoying the match of mental ability to be quite frank; she didn't get much of it with us.' laughed Ron, but his smile faded instantly at the expression on Harry's face. 'Don't look so worried, they're at Hogwarts not Azkaban."

"But…but _why_? What could…how could she…'

Harry was ranting. He began to pace, a hand pressed against his forehead as if attempting to draw out a possible conclusion for such an action. In his mind it was still incredibly dangerous for her to be going out in public. What if she ran into an old friend from school? Someone she knew from her childhood? A Death Eater? How could she not be concerned by any of this? It baffled him, when she was so uptight about him being vigilant about safety and self preservation, and yet she took none of her own advice.

Ron looked at Harry nervously. "They won't be that long. They've just gone to look up something in the school records is all. It's too dangerous to get them owled over, so they're going in person. McGonagall gave them permission to use her office for as long as they wanted."

"I can't _believ_e this.' Muttered Harry angrily.

"You sound like Hermione.' Said Ron, shaking his head.

"And you would know." Muttered Harry.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Well, you knew she was going to be more involved. Your Mum, I mean.' Said Ron.

"Still doesn't make me feel any better about this.' Said Harry, running his hands through his hair. 'And Hogwarts of _all_ places. Why doesn't she just stroll into the Ministry itself and announce 'hey everyone, look, I'm not really dead!'. God, she just doesn't _think_!"

"At least now we know where you get it from.'

Harry stopped his pacing long enough to shoot Ron's teasing smile a glare. "That's not funny."

"Yes it is, especially when you're being such a paranoid ninny. Now will you stop your fussing?' laughed Ron, putting his paper down. 'You're like an old woman. You're like my _mother!_ It's rather freaky come to think of it, stop that."

"I can't stop fussing. I'm irritated and I'm angsting this out the only was I know how.' Snapped Harry, resuming his pacing. 'How could you just let them go without saying anything?"

"I _did_ say something!' said Ron defensively. 'For all the good it did me. I've only just managed to get all the leaches off my arse."

Harry stopped again and looked at Ron, his eyebrows raised. "Leaches?"

Ron nodded. "Leaches."

"On your arse? _Literally_?'

"When I tried to stop Hermione from going she cursed me.' said Ron, wincing at the memory. 'I've only just been able to sit down properly. Crazy witch…'

Harry threw his arms up in the air with a grunt and stalked off toward the stairs. "Amazing! Can take on Death Eaters but cant stop two women from leaving the house…'

"Don't get mad at me!' snapped Ron irritably.

"I'm not mad!' yelled Harry, feeling helplessly out of control all of a sudden. 'I'm yelling because I'm in a great mood! I'm storming out because I'm _so_ happy!"

Ron rolled his eyes and went back to his breakfast as Harry stalked out of the room and back upstairs, no doubt to sit in his room and brood over his dwindling lack of control over people's lives.

-------------------

Lily adjusted the large box of files in her arms as Hermione closed the large wooden door behind them. The two of them stepped onto the spiral staircase and began to descend.

"I think this should be ample, don't you?' said Lily, brandishing the box at the young brunette beside her. 'Any more and we'd be buckling under the stressful prospect of having to actually _read_ all of them.

Hermione smiled, tapped the box with her wand and shrunk it down to the size of a dice. "Don't worry; we'll get through them in no time. Reading is what I do best after all."

"Hermione, I'm sure there a lot of things that you're best at, and I'm sure they're not limited simply at reading.' Laughed Lily, pocketing the tiny box in her jacket.

Hermione said nothing as Lily lead the way past the gargoyle that guarded the Headmistresses staircase, trying desperately not to look too pleased with herself.

The lunch bell had sounded throughout the castle not ten minutes ago, and everywhere there were students bustling about in black robes, arms full of either books or an assortment of lunches and talking loudly and excitedly in relief to be out of the stuffy classrooms. Lily smiled and looked around the halls as she and Hermione walked together in silence, taking everything her eyes could possibly see, feeling memory after memory come flying back to her.

_I used to sit there at lunch when it was hot, the coolest spot on the seventh floor… I remember that spot, where Sirius and Snape had one of their fights… that's where James asked me out for the five hundredth millionth time during fifth year…and that's where I kicked him in the leg for asking me out for the five hundredth millionth time during fifth year… _

"Lots of memories?'

Lily blinked and looked to see Hermione watching her. She smiled and nodded, putting her hands in her pockets. "Yes…yes there is. Sometimes when I think of all this, it's almost like I didn't have a life until I started coming here. Like, my mind blocks out the rest of my childhood and focuses on the times I had here."

Hermione nodded. "I know what you mean. It's like… I didn't start living until I came here."

"I imagine you have your fair share of memories too."

"Yes, I do. Not all of them good, sadly.'

"Like the day you met two certain boys on a certain train on the way to a certain castle?' said Lily, elbowing Hermione playfully.

Hermione laughed softly as they turned the corner. "A certain something like that."

The two of them went down a few more floors, chatting and dodging students. The whole way down from McGonagall's office they had managed to make their way through the halls without attracting too much attention. If anyone stopped to give them a look of interest, their curiosity was directed more at Hermione than Lily. Students would look at Hermione with an almost intensely suppressed interest, as if they were trying not to look obvious about what it was they were thinking. Lily had her suspicions about what was on their mind; seeing Hermione Granger, smartest witch at Hogwarts in a good decade and a half who was best friends with Harry Potter, the Chosen Boy Who Lived, neither of which had decided to come back to school, was bound to fuel the already blazing flames of gossip within the castle. Of course, Lily herself was getting the odd look that silently said 'I wonder who you are', but no-one even remotely recognized her for who she really was.

It wasn't until they were passing by the staffroom that they ran into any problems.

Lily heard him before she saw him. Alarm rapidly rose in her chest as his booming, joyful voice echoed down the halls, growing louder as he approached. In a moment of panic, she grabbed Hermione by the shoulders, swung her around and shoved her around the nearest corner out of sight.

Hermione let out a grunt of surprise as she slammed up against the stone wall. "Mrs. Potter, what in heaven's name…"

"Shh!' hissed Lily, ducking around the corner. She pressed herself against the wall beside Hermione. 'Don't say anything or he'll hear you."

"Who?' whispered Hermione.

Lily pressed a finger to her lips and gave Hermione a 'for the love of God shut up!' look. Hermione, being the exceptionally smart girl she was, didn't press the issue like Harry would have. She simply shut her mouth and turned her ear back toward around the corner, listening like Lily was. It was only a few seconds later when the voice increased in volume even more and soon he was just a few feet away.

'…yes, sad state of affairs, isn't it? More and more people go missing all the time, isn't that right? Makes me sick to the stomach it does. If I was a bit younger I can tell you now I'd be out there along with the best of them, not to mention young Harry Potter! Now _there's_ a boy you'd like to have on your side, eh? Your brother's best friends with him, isn't that right?"

"Yes, Horace, he is."

Hermione looked at Lily, now understanding. "Professor Slughorn."

Lily nodded. "If he sees me its game over. _Je_sus…' she leant around Hermione to peer around the corner. Bill Weasley was standing with Professor Slughorn, the two of them engaged in a virtually one way conversation. Slughorn was talking animatedly to Bill, waving around his big beefy hands and his huge belly wobbling whenever he laughed at his own joke. Bill was smiling politely and nodding at the right intervals, but was looking around as if he'd rather be anywhere else. 'Of all the Professors to run into…'

"It had to the one who worshiped the ground your cauldrons sat on." Whispered Hermione with a wry smile.

Lily rolled her eyes. "He did not _worship_."

"That's not the impression we got last year.' Said Hermione softly, letting Lily lean over her to look around the corner again. 'I don't think there was a class we went to where he wasn't raving to Harry about how wonderful you were."

Lily slipped back around the corner and looked at Hermione in subtle disbelief. "He…he said that?"

Hermione nodded.

Lily let out a soft 'ha' of astonishment. When she had been at school, Slughorn had always had no problem letting people know who his favorites were, but it still amazed her that even now after all that had happened that he could still remember everything about her.

"They're not leaving.' Said Hermione softly.

"Bloody men,' muttered Lily impatiently, 'gasbagging all the bloody time… can't get a bloody move on…"

"Well we can't just stand here and wait for them to move.' Said Hermione softly, smirking at Lily's language. 'like you said, once men get chatting they're worse than women."

"_No_ species is worse than women.' Muttered Lily, leaning around Hermione to peek around the corner once more, this time Hermione joined her.

Bill and Slughorn were still standing there, chatting away. Slughorn would beam at students as they passed, but most students seem to warm to Bill more…especially the girls. The girls who traveled in groups especially seemed not to mind passing up and down the corridor a few times for no particular reason, nor did they seem to mind Bill's scars. Lily suppressed giggles as she heard Hermione tisk disapprovingly, obviously finding such obvious fawning over a professor to be derogatory and obviously forgetting her own second year and who the Defense Professor was back then.

Bill looked around the hallway and, almost as if accidentally on purpose, his eyes locked with Lily's. He blinked in surprise, looked at Hermione and smiled friendly in that way old friends do when they see one another from opposite ends of the room. Hermione smiled in response and Lily gave him a quick, coy little wave. Bill nodded in a quick, upward jerk of his head and wriggled his fingers from his pocket where they were currently sitting in a little wave.

"…ready for exams and it isn't even October already! Isn't that outrageous? Minerva's getting a bit batty in her old age I think, putting us through…Bill, are you listening to me? What are you looking at?"

In the split second Slughorn turned to see what it was Bill was looking at, Hermione and Lily quickly ducked back around the corner, pressing themselves against the stone wall with their hearts pounding against their ribcage.

"Think he saw us?' whispered Hermione, looking at Lily out of the corner of her eye.

"I think he saw you." murmured Lily, stiff as a board.

"_Me_? He would have seen _you_!"

"Nuh-uh, you had your big bushy head sticking out there…'

"I wasn't looking at anything, Horace.' Came Bill's voice. 'Just daydreaming, you know. Thinking about Fleur and what she's making me for dinner tonight. She makes the best veal."

"Ah, yes…something I fear I've missed out on! The joy of a woman's cooking…'

Hermione and Lily let out a breath of relief as Slughorn went into another tangent of conversation. Lily ran her hands through her hair, linked her fingers behind her neck and let her head fall back.

"We need to get out of here before any of my other old professors show up.'

"I agree, but this corridor doesn't lead to the Entrance Hall.' Said Hermione peering up the corridor they were standing in.

"Yeah, I know. It goes back up to Ravenclaw Tower.' Said Lily in slight annoyance. 'Crimeny, why can't all roads lead back down to the front door? Curse this maze of corridors."

Hermione bit her lip. "You'd think Bill would be smart enough to put two and two together and lead Slughorn away."

"Yeah, you'd think." Said Lily. She looked at Hermione, getting an idea. "Go distract him."

"What?"

"You heard me; get him out of this corridor!' said Lily, pushing Hermione toward the edge of the corner.

"Me? Why me?' protested Hermione, trying to cement her feet to the floor.

"Because you're not technically dead, okay? It's plausible for you to be here. Is _acceptable_ for you to be here.' Said Lily, giving Hermione a look. 'Just go tell him you need help with some potion or something. Stall him long enough so I can get downstairs!"

Hermione sighed irritably. "Urgh, I _hate_ stalling."

Lily watched as Hermione slipped out from their corner, straightened herself up and walked over to Bill and Slughorn. She tapped on the Potions Professor's large shoulder and smiled as he turned around.

"Hello, Professor. Hello, Bill.' She said sweetly.

"Hermione Granger! Merlin's beard!' boomed Slughorn, tapping Hermione on the arm. 'And here I was thinking we were never going to have the opportunity to meet again!"

Hermione nodded and cupped her hands together behind her back. "Yes, I know, it pained me not to be coming back this year."

Slughorn waved a hand. "Oh, nonsense my girl! It's perfectly understandable! You've got more important things to be going on with now, I assume?' he chuckled, tapping his nose with a wink.

"Hermione's keeping herself busy out of school, Horace. Trust me.' Said Bill, thoroughly enjoying himself now.

"Good to hear, my dear, good to hear!' said Slughorn, his moustache twitching. 'I'd hate to think of a good talent like yours just sitting around doing nothing good for the world. Now, what brings you to Hogwarts on this fine September morning?"

Lily smiled to herself as she watched the exchange. Slughorn really hadn't changed a bit in twenty years. Still the same loud, loquacious man he's always been. Still ready to have a conversation with anyone he saw worthy. While Hermione seemed deep in conversation with Slughorn, Lily could tell she was thinking of how she was going to distract him long enough so Lily could get downstairs. As she chatted away, Hermione slowly began to move around to the left in a semi-circle, causing Slughorn to turn with her. Soon enough, he was almost in the position Hermione had been standing in with his back to Lily. Just a bit further and she would be completely out of his peripheral vision…Bill was watching with interest, his gaze flickering between Slughorn and Lily… he was almost there…

"Mrs Potter?"

Lily jumped out of her skin at the tap on her shoulder. With a squeal of surprise she snapped back behind the corner, slammed herself against the wall instinctively and looked into the face of a rather curios Ginny Weasley.

Lily sighed in relief and pressed her hand to her chest. "Ginny…lord almighty…you scared the _begeezers _out of me!"

"I know, I can see that; I'm sorry.' Giggled Ginny, hitching the strap of her bag on her shoulder. 'I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, that's alright.' Said Lily softly, relaxing. 'No harm done."

Ginny smiled. 'So, what brings you here? All the way to Hogwarts? Hiding behind the corner?"

Lily smiled and laughed softly. "Long story short; exposure risk. What are _you_ doing here?"

"I go to school here."

"Yes, silly, I know that. What are you doing _here_?"

"Oh, right.' Laughed Ginny. 'I was just walking Luna back to Ravenclaw Tower. We were going to go for a walk around the grounds, but she said that this month is Jagged Mootrat breeding month and she didn't want to go out walking and risk the delicate balance of her internal organs and their current productivity."

Lily just looked at Ginny.

Ginny snorted. "When you finally meet Luna, you'll understand."

"Sadly I fear I will.' Said Lily.

They stood in silence for a moment, and Lily listened around the corner again. Hermione was still talking to Slughorn and Bill, no doubt getting very impatient and wondering what was taking Lily so long.

"So…' said Ginny conversationally, looking at her feet. 'How's…everyone?"

Lily smiled. "Harry's good."

Ginny blushed. "That's…good."

"Yes, I know how much pressure it can be to try and _GET OUT OF THE CASTLE_ during such perilous times…'

Lily shook herself back into reality as Hermione's voice sounded around the corner. She turned back to Ginny and tapped her shoulders. "Sweetie, I'd love to stay and chat with you some more, but I have to get out of here before Slughorn spots me."

"Why cant you just Floo back to Grimmauld Place?' asked Ginny.

"Because they're still watching the Network, and I don't think we need to half a dozen wizards seeing Lily Potter, dead mother of The Boy Who Lived whizzing past them in a whirl of pretty green flames."

Ginny laughed. "No, I suppose not. How are you getting back then?"

"Well, the plan is to get back to the gates and just apparate home.' Said Lily, peering around the corner.

"Hey, good idea.' Said Ginny. 'Hermione's a real thinker."

Lily looked back around at her. "Who said it was _Hermione's_ idea? I was Head Girl too once upon a time. I _do_ have some basic intellect – more than I can say for the rest of the leaves on my family tree."

Ginny blushed. "Sorry, I wasn't…I didn't mean…'

"It's alright, Ginny.' Laughed Lily. 'I'm just yanking your chain. But, I'm going to have to love you and leave you I think…Hermione's loosing her stalling touch, and I don't particularly want to be the second red-head with leaches on their bum today."

"That's alright, I understand… I think. Tell Harry I said hi, wont you?"

"Of course I will."

Lily watched as Ginny walked around the corner and out of sight, hesitated for a moment and then stuck her head around to check. Slughorn now had his back completely to Lily as he chatted away, and Hermione was tapping her foot impatiently, her arms folded over her chest. Bill looked from Slughorn's face to Lily and smirked, indicating with a small nod of his head that the coast was clear. With a skill James had taught her on their many nights sneaking out together, she slipped out from her hiding spot, gave Hermione a thumbs-up and dashed down the staircase like a Death Eater was chasing her.

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she tuned back in to Slughorn's voice.

"… be taking precautions out there in the real world. I'm rather disappointed that I didn't get to help you through your NEWT's this year…not that you'd really need my help, eh? You probably know all the work like the back of your little hand already, don't you?" he chuckled.

"Well, like you said, there are more important things to be worrying about now.' Said Hermione, giving Slughorn a smile. 'And not that it hasn't been wonderful talking to you, but I'm afraid I have to get going."

"Cant you stay just a bit longer?' said Bill, looking slightly horrified at the prospect of being left alone with Slughorn and passing girls once more.

Hermione coughed to cover up her laughter. "Sorry, I can't. I have things to be doing…people to escort…things to be reading…'

Slughorn nodded. "Yes, of course. Just know if you ever need any assistance what-so-ever, my services are at your…service.' He finished lamely, looking off into space as he realized what he had just said.

"Thank you, sir. See you later, Bill.'

Bill gave her arm a squeeze as she walked a few paces away, looked around cautiously and then bolted off down the stairs. Bill swallowed back a laugh as Slughorn sighed and shook his head.

"Strange girl, that one. Brilliant…but strange."

------------------

Tonks was bent over, examining the contents of her fridge when there was a crack of arrival behind her. She didn't bother to turn around; she knew exactly who it was. Not just because she had owled him to come over as soon as he had the chance, but because she would know that aftershave anywhere.

"Dora?"

"Present.' She said, grabbing a bottle of milk. She straightened up, shut the fridge and turned to smile at Remus. 'You're a very prompt man, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Several.' Said Remus, watching as she went to the cupboard, pulled out glasses and began making drinks. 'Once by my grandmother who thought that being four hours late to a church service was a new form of punctuality. But, then again, she thought that the Queen was coming over to dinner to discuss home renovation plans with her, so we usually took her opinions with a rather small grain of salt."

Tonks laughed and squeezed some chocolate topping into the bottom of the glasses. "Sounds like my kind of woman. I hope I'm completely batty when I'm old like you."

"You're hilarious.' Said Remus, deadpan, frowning at her as she added milk to the glasses. 'What are you doing?"

"Making chocolate milk. Want some?"

"No thanks, I'm 36."

Tonks laughed and shrugged. "Your loss."

Remus smiled, took his cloak off and hung it up over the back of a chair at the round dining table. "So, is that the reason you wanted me over? To try and feed me chocolate milk? Because unless there's rum in it I don't see the massive emergency."

Tonks sat up on the bench and took one of the glasses as Remus sat down at the table. "Massive emergency? What gave you that idea?"

Remus looked at her in a daze for a moment, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small piece of parchment. He cleared his throat and then began to read:

_Moony,_

_Get your butt over to Hot Central as soon as your busy schedule will allow it. I have something very important to discuss._

_Love, NT. _

_P.S. I mean it…ASAP. _

_P.P.S. No, seriously. I mean it. Right now. _

Folding up the bit of parchment, Remus raised his eyebrows questioningly as he slipped it back into his pocket. "Pardon me if I read that incorrectly, but that didn't seem much of an ambiguous message."

Tonks went red and looked down at her lap. "No, you're right, it wasn't."

"Well, is everything alright?' he blurted out finally, no longer feeling the need to suppress is concern. 'Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"What? Oh, God no! No, nothing like that."

"Is it something to do with the Order?" asked Remus.

"No, not really."

Remus paused. "Is it…something to do with…us?"

Tonks eyes widened. "No! No, Remus…this isn't…I'm not…"

"Because I didn't think it was…"

"No, that's not…"

"I just wasn't sure…but when women start a conversation like that…"

Tonks rolled her eyes and gave Remus a look. "Lupin, honestly. Why would I pine after you for over a year just to break up with you after a few months of being together?"

Remus shrugged. "I don't know. I thought that maybe…now that you'd gotten to really know me…"

"Remus, I promise on every candy bar that I have ever eaten that my feelings for you have not changed.' Said Tonks directly. 'Not in the slightest. If anything, getting past these barriers you put up and getting to know the real you has only made me fall for you more."

Remus rubbed the back of neck awkwardly. "Really?"

"Yes, dummy, _really_ really." She laughed.

He smiled and nodded, feeling very relieved. The first thought that had popped into his head once he had received her owl was 'oh god, something's happened to her' and then 'no, you idiot…she's breaking up with you!'. It hadn't been the best paranoid five minutes spent in his life, but having her sitting with him now, giving him that sincere look and telling him that he was being a complete nutter for even considering such a thing was putting him at ease in that way only she seemed to know how.

He sighed and rubbed his jaw. "Very well then, if you're not going to break up with me and your mental and physical stability are still well in tact…what is the big emergency?"

It was Tonks's turn to look nervous. She sipped on her chocolate milk for a long moment, trying to delay the inevitable. Trying to think of how best she was going to explain this all to him without him blowing a gasket. Was that even possible? She didn't think so. What she had to say to him was more than huge. It was gigantically enormously massive, and it was putting the very foundations of their trust on thin ice. But she couldn't go on any longer, carrying this secret around; and not just because it was emotionally draining. She owed it to him to tell him. He deserved to know.

"Well, er…' she stuttered, putting her glass down. 'Remus, the thing is…there's something I haven't been telling you."

"Yes, I know."

"And its…wait, _what_?' she blinked. 'What do you mean you _know_?"

Remus smiled. "Dora, you're an excellent Auror on the job, but when you're with me your poker face is completely useless. I've known for ages. You haven't been yourself."

Tonks opened and closed her mouth several times, but all that came out were the odd grunt of disbelief. She let out a short laugh, threw her hands up and let them fall onto her thighs with a light slap. "Why the bloody hell didn't you say anything?"

"I figured you'd come to me when you were ready.' Said Remus, shrugging.

"You're almost illegitimately perfect, do you know that?' she said.

Remus smiled. "I have a fair idea, yes. Besides, it'd be hypocritical of me to get angry at you considering the secrets I've had to keep over the years. Everyone has secrets, Dora."

Tonks blew air out through her lips. "Not like this one they don't."

"Unless you're a Nazi transvestite with a helluva facelift I think I got you beat.' Chuckled Remus. Tonks said nothing, just smiled and looked at her feet as they swung back and forth. 'Well, come on, out with it. Tell me your sins."

She rubbed her eyes, feeling very tired. "You're going to be so mad."

Remus's grin faded. Her shoulders were hunched and there was an exhausted demeanor about her. She wasn't kidding this time, something unusual for her. She was always smiling or cracking jokes, even if she was trying to be serious. For her to be this sedate about a secret meant it had to be a big deal.

He got to his feet and crossed over to her, rubbing her arms comfortingly. "Whatever it is, I'm sure we can work it out."

Tonks shook her head, keeping her eyes downcast.

"Dora, look…if you don't want to tell me…'

"No, I do. I do want to tell you.' She said, taking his hands in hers. 'It's just…going to be very hard for you to understand this. I know it is. It's why I haven't told you sooner, because I know you'll have trouble getting why I did this."

Remus's eyes narrowed. "Did what?"

Tonks looked up at him, her lip caught between her teeth. "I…'

"Dora…what have you done?"

"I…I just…' she trailed off and sighed. She let her head flop back and looked at ceiling, as if praying for strength, then looked back at Remus. She took his face in her hands and stroked his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs. 'You know how much I care about you, and the last thing I want to do is keep secrets from you. But…I don't think this is one I can actually tell you about. I think I'll have to just show you."

Remus cocked an eyebrow. "Have…you got a _tattoo_?"

"No, sadly, I haven't. But keep that idea for later."

"Well, what could be so bad then?' he said, giving her a small smile.

Tonks didn't return it. Now more than ever she regretted calling him over. Regretted letting her damn conscience get in the way again and command her to tell one of the people she really cared about what was going on with her. She knew what his reaction was going to be, and she wished that she could somehow dilute it. But then, without the reaction it wouldn't be Remus she was telling it to, and that wasn't what she wanted at all.

He was waiting for her to say something. She blew air out through her lips, lifted his knuckles to her lips and gave them a quick kiss. He seemed a little startled and worried, but she tried not to let it put her off. Knowing she could no longer delay the inevitable, she slouched and closed her eyes.

"Come on out then." She called out into the house.

Remus frowned, confused. Who was she talking to? Did she have company? His ears pricked up and he heard the approach of footsteps. He could smell that clean scent again as the person approached. They were coming up the hallway. Remus looked at Tonks again. She was looking at him nervously, awaiting his reaction. He frowned and looked around at the entrance to the hallway.

And, wearing Remus's old pair of jeans and his favorite brown jumper, in walked Draco Malfoy.

* * *

A/N – Bit of a cliffhanger, eh? Don't have a total spaz out just yet…save your sanity in tack to review my chapter! Let me now what you liked! 

Please review!


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25!

* * *

Draco hated this jumper.

Everything about it was repulsive. The itchy woolen fabric, the fraying seams along the bottom, the sleeves with one shorter than the other, the atrocious brown color that was the shade of a dilapidated Bundimun, and especially the small whole at the top of the left sleeve, just big enough for his thumb to slip through. But the thing he hated most about it… was the fact that it wasn't his.

In fact, none of his attire was anymore. It was all second hand. Old. Decrepit. Bland. Beastly.

_Lupins. _

Normally, he would have had the energy to be incensed about wearing the werewolfs clothing. Had this happened just a few months ago, he would have screamed bloody murder at even the suggestion to wear such apparel…such _disgusting_ hand-me-downs… but lately he barely had the energy to argue about his sleeping arrangements, let alone the clothes he had been given to wear.

It was atrocious that he had been reduced to such a low standard. He had never heard of wearing such a thing as jeans before. Since the day he was born, his clothes had been made of the finest imported golden Alpaca fleece, silk and other exquisitely expensive materials money could provide. He's never had to wear denim or plain wool or cotton. He was a Malfoy, dammit. A member of one of the most prestigious, wealthy and powerful wizarding family in centuries.

But then, what did _that_ mean to anyone anymore?

Draco sighed, shut his eyes and ran his hands through his platinum blonde hair as he tried to drown out the shouting from the other room. He was sitting on the floor with his back resting up against the wall in the middle of the hallway, his knees drawn up to his chest. He didn't all together mind having been ushered out of the kitchen. The look on his old professor's face upon seeing him had been more than enough motivation to high-tail in the other direction as fast as he could. Had he had any sense of what was good for him, he would have retreated straight into his bedroom and waited until the verbal storm passed… but he was far too curious to hear what was going to be said about him, so he had sat himself down out of sight, trying to calm down and listen in to what was being said.

"_Never_ in my _entire_ life would I have _ever_ imagined you _doing_ something like this, Dora!" Remus was shouting, his loud voice not hiding an inch of his anger. "This is…you know what this is? This is beyond words. Completely beyond explanation!"

"No, Remus, it _isn't_ beyond explanation!' Roared Tonks in response. 'You're just too hysterical to let me try and _give_ you an explanation… and trust me, there bloody well is one, despite what you're thinking and feeling at the moment!"

Remus scoffed and threw his arms up in the air, pacing around the kitchen at a frantic speed. He was fuming, his breath coming out in short puffs of hysteria and his whole body stiff as a board.

Tonks folded her arms over her chest. "Are you going to listen to me now? Or are you just going to brood some more?"

"I'm just going to brood some more.' Snapped Remus, not looking at her.

"Ten points for maturity.' Muttered Tonks, chewing on her tongue.

Remus whirled on her. "You want to talk about maturity? I'm not the one keeping _him_ in my home!"

"'Him' has a name, you know."

"At this point, I don't care if he has golden eggs shooting out of his ass!' said Remus shortly. He ran his hands through his hair, taking in slow deep breaths. 'Merlin's _beard_, Dora…"

Tonks sighed and watched him pace some more, feeling both anger and sadness fighting for dominance within her. She wanted to hug him, reassure him, hit him and kick him out all at once and it was very confusing. She knew this wasn't going to be easy, but how could she make him understand if he wouldn't even listen to her?

Remus stopped his pacing and looked at the hallway. "That's what you were doing with all my clothes, isn't it? You weren't really giving them to goodwill, were you?"

Tonks shook her head. "Draco needed clothes. The school uniform he was in was filthy. Not to mention he needed toiletries and other things I didn't have, and you were the closest person I knew…"

"So you robbed my home of half of my closet?"

"It's not like you were wearing of it anyway. And Draco needed them…"

"Oh, of course… '_Draco needed them'_!' said Remus nastily, making quotation marks with his fingers. 'Don't you understand how insane all this sounds? You're talking about him as if he's just some lost dog you've brought in from the cold!"

"He needed my help!"

"The _hell_ he did!' yelled Remus, resuming his pacing. 'Don't you see what he's doing? He's worming his way into your life and, from that, worming his way into ours! This could be all part of his plan! To get your defenses down…to get you to trust him…and when he knows he has that trust he's exploit it to his full advantage! Its _dangerous_ having him here!"

"Don't you think I know that?' retorted Tonks angrily. 'Don't you think I'm on edge every second of the day because of that knowledge?"

Remus looked at her for a long moment, as if searching for something in her face, before he crossed over to her in two quick strides and grabbed her by the arms in a tight grip. "Has he cursed you? Are you under Imperius?"

"What? No! Remus, let go…" said Tonks, trying to worm out of his grip.

But he didn't let go. "A potion then? What has he done to you?"

"Remus, stop…you're hurting…"

"Tell me, Dora…fight it…"

Tonks grabbed his face in her hands. "Remus, he hasn't done anything to me, I swear it. No potions, no hexes…I can fight off Imperius just as well as Harry can, remember? I swear to you, it's just me."

Remus looked at her suspiciously for a moment, before letting her go. He took a step back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, then…what _is_ in your head then? What on earth made you think you could keep him here? Why would you even _want_ to?"

"Honestly? I still don't know.' She said, looking out the window.

"He could hurt you at any moment!" said Remus, his eyes flashing with…was it fear? 'He's unpredictable! And after last June I wouldn't put anything past his ability!"

"He won't hurt me. At least, not magically he won't.' She said. 'I took his wand off him. It's one of the conditions of him staying here."

Remus gave her a look. "Not having a wand does not mean he can't do magic."

"I know that, but it certainly makes it a lot harder for him.' She said. 'He has no access to his wand at all, or my potion ingredients or anything else to do with magic. He's been totally cut-off, Remus; I've made sure of it."

"I still don't like it.' Growled Remus, taking up his furious pacing again. 'This is beyond my ability to comprehend, Dora. Having him here…living under your roof…_Merlin_, Dora, it goes against everything you stand for. Everything _we_ stand for! Its unheard of! It's…its…_God_…"

"Remus, I realize how outrageous this all seems, but you have to at least _try_ to trust my judgment on this!' implored Tonks, trying to catch his eye as he paced back and forth in front of her. 'This isn't something I entered into lightly. I know the risks in having Draco here, _believe_ me…'

"Then why did you do it?' yelled Remus, throwing his arms up. 'Why? Why in Gods name, _why_?"

"I am an Auror, Remus. It's in my nature to help people."

"Yes, you _are_ an Auror. And as such it should also be your nature to throw wizards like him into Azkaban the second you lay eyes on them!"

Tonks ran a hand through her hair. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I should have just turned him in once he landed on my doorstep."

Remus sighed. "Then why didn't you?"

"You know, you can keep asking me why until the Hippogriffs come home, but if you're not ready to listen then I'm not ready to tell you!' snapped Tonks irritably. 'Now you know why I didn't tell you this sooner, Remus! I knew you'd flip out like this! And not that I blame you, so don't you dare start on that, but you need to try and calm down and understand that this isn't something I can just switch off…no matter how loudly you rant."

"I'm ranting because it's the only way your roof is still attached to your house right now. Literally!' yelled Remus. The windows shook, testimony that he wasn't being dramatic. 'I don't understand _any _of this! Why didn't you just turn him over?"

"I _couldn't_, Remus.' Said Tonks, looking desperate. 'And believe me; I had every intention of doing it. But he was just…and I didn't…' she trailed off and looked out the window again, wishing she could put this in a way he would understand.

Remus shook his head and fisted his hair in his hands. "I just don't believe it. Just don't _believe_ it! How do you know he's not going to try and take advantage of this? That he's not going to try and kill you too?"

"He won't do that. He can't do that."

"No, you just want to believe he can't do it…for some insane reason.' He added under his breath. 'Is it because he's your cousin? Is that it?"

"No…I don't know…maybe…' said Tonks, shifting under Remus's stare.

"Since when have you been on the best terms with your family?' yelled Remus, completely hysterical once more.

Tonks frowned. "Will you stop yelling at me like I'm one of your students? I'm your partner, Remus, and I don't need your patronizing tone!"

Remus shook his head stubbornly once more.

Tonks blew air out through her lips and watched him pace. "Look, all I know is that he needed help. _My_ help. And, come on…if anyone can understand keeping a fugitive on the run from the ministry hidden in their home it's you, isn't it?"

"Oh my _God_, Dora, it's not even _close_ to being the same thing. He is a _Death Eater_!" shouted Remus, waving a hand at the hallway again.

"He's not a Death Eater, he has no mark."

"A mark makes no never mind to the situation, dammit!' shouted Remus, causing the glasses in the cupboard to shake dangerously. 'He let Death Eaters into the school last June! He almost killed Ron! He tried to kill Dumbledore!"

Tonks frowned. "Yes, Remus, I've been following."

Remus looked at her as if he didn't quite know who she was anymore. "Does that mean nothing to you?"

"It means _everything_ to me, so don't you _dare _stand there in your anger and indignation and imply that it bloody doesn't!' she shouted, leaping up off the counter and crossing to him to poke him sharply in the chest. 'I have not forgotten all that he's done and I certainly haven't forgiven him for it, nor am I ever likely to!"

"And yet you keep him here with you instead of locking him up in a cell in Azkaban.' Said Remus, frowning. 'You feed him; you care for him, you keep him safe…and for what?"

Tonks exhaled slowly through her nose, trying to suppress her anger. "You don't understand his position."

Remus laughed a low, bitter laugh. "Oh yes, that's right. _His position_! How stupid of me to forget. Let me guess, he's been wrongly accused, is that it? Is this the part where you tell me he's a misunderstood boy? Just a kid who's been lead down the wrong path and misjudged?"

"No way in hell.' She growled, finding satisfaction at Remus's surprised look. 'Misunderstood my _arse_! He's an arrogant, selfish little shit. I know that. You know that. Even _he_ knows that! I'm not going to make excuses for his personality or his past…or even his fashion complaints. _God _knows I've had enough stress just with getting him to wear the clothes I've given him."

"You'll get sympathy later.' Muttered Remus. He ran his hands through his grey streaked hair and took a few deep breaths. 'This is something I could have never imagined you doing."

"You and me both.' Said Tonks, hugging herself.

"Why did you even tell me this?' he asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

Tonks looked up at him, shocked. "I don't know, Remus. I guess I was kind of hoping for your support in this."

Remus sighed and rolled his eyes. "Merlin's beard…my _support_? I can't even process how _I _feel about this, let alone try to help _you_ with it!"

"I understand that."

"I just…I need to…_God_.' He muttered, putting a hand over his eyes. "You know, when you said you had something to tell me I honestly thought it was something minor. But never would I have imagined…all this time you've…_God_. I don't even know how to _begin_ to fix this."

Tonks frowned. "I don't _want_ you to fix it."

"Well this isn't just something we can…'

Remus stopped mid-rant and sniffed, before whirling around to find Draco leaning against the doorway of the hall, hands folded in front of him in a dignified way. Remus glared at him, taking great satisfaction to see that two months on the run had not been good on the young Malfoy. His hair was long and hung limp around his face. He was paler than usual and almost sickeningly thin. He had an almost sheltered stance about him, quite the opposite to the bragging, obnoxious vibe he always stood with.

Draco cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt, but I like the rest of Northern Zimbabwe couldn't help but overhear your subtle conversation."

Remus stiffened. "What's it to you?"

"Well, I think that any matter concerning me should be brought to me, not discussed with the lady of the house.' Said Draco, giving Tonks a small smirk.

Tonks shoved Remus away as he went to move protectively in front of her. "Draco, don't be a twit. You're lucky he hasn't knocked your arse down half a dozen ways to Sunday by now. Don't push your luck with us right now, okay?"

Draco's smirk disappeared. "I have things I want to say."

"Something new and different for you.' Retorted Tonks, deadpan. 'Look, now's really not the time for your sarcasm. Maybe later on when we're two hundred and forty and have to use those little gramophone thingies stuck in our ears to be able to hear you…"

"If you're talking about me, don't I get a chance to have my input?" asked Draco.

Tonks sighed, sensing Remus tense up. "Yes, you do, but _not now_. The grown-ups are talking."

Draco frowned and drew himself up. "I'm seventeen…I'm an adult."

"Funny,' said Remus suddenly, his tone as cold as his expression, 'you seem to have made a lot of childish decisions for one being 'an adult'."

"Draco, please…' said Tonks, putting herself between Remus and her cousin. 'Just go to your room, will you?"

Draco glanced at Remus's deadly expression, and then nodded. "Of course. Because I _am_ a four year old girl, and need to be told to do such a thing."

Tonks rolled her eyes and sighed as he disappeared back down the hall, into his room and shut the door behind him. "He just can't exit without his usual snarky comment." She smiled and turned around to face Remus, but her smile fell as she saw his dark expression. 'Remus, please…'

Remus pulled away from her. He paced in silence for a long while, his hand cupping his jaw pensively. His brow was knotted together anxiously as his mind worked over everything he had discovered in the past half hour, trying to riddle it out, piece it all together, and make logic of it like he always seemed to be able to do with any other problems. Tonks was silent the entire time which he was grateful for. She obviously understood his need for a few moments of peace and space.

He finally stopped and looked at her, calmer than he had been in a good long while. "How did he come to be with you?"

She smiled. "Well, it was a dark, stormy night…no, really, it was… and I was sitting watching the telly…"

_Tonks laughed again as she sat through another enjoyable episode of 'Drop the Dead Donkey', shoveling popcorn in her mouth as the rain pelted the windows outside. It was very late, and she knew she should be in bed. Files and rolls of parchment were laid out messily across her coffee table, lying under empty chip packets and half-full cans of soft drink and Butterbeer. _

_She was completely alone tonight, and all lights in her small house were off, except for the lamp beside the sofa where she was currently reclined, nursing a bowl of food in her lap. She knew she probably should have been in bed, or working on her notes at the very least considering she had chosen to be up at all hours. But she'd been working hard all day, and had begun to go cross-eyed from reading so much. She deserved some downtime before she carried herself off to bed – another night without Remus to keep her warm. _

_Tonks picked popcorn out of her back teeth with her tongue and changed the channel with her remote, wondering for a brief moment why more wizards didn't have televisions. It was certainly a better option than listening to the wireless as her mother had always insisted on doing on stormy nights such as these. But then, her mother had gone twenty-something years without even electricity and simply didn't know any better. When things settled down, she declared she'd buy her parents a new television for their anniversary. The one they were watching now was the one Genghis Khan used to watch. _

_Thunder clapped again overhead and the lights flickered, but that wasn't what made her look around in alarm. The knut sized gem embedded in the small talisman sitting on the coffee table had suddenly turned from a light green and was now glowing in a deep shade of red. The talisman was standard issue amongst Aurors when they were out in the field, and had four sub-connections to be placed wherever the said Auror saw fit. They were all linked together in a magical line, like a tripwire, signaling if anyone was approaching on foot. If the gem was glowing green, like a traffic light it meant that all was clear. But if it went red, it meant something had tripped the magical line. In any other situation, Tonks would have taken it for just a bird or a rabbit running through her garden, but times like they were her senses tweaked as she tensed up, trying to listen. She strained her ears, trying to hear pops of apparition, or muttered words of spells, or footsteps even…but all she could hear was the rain pelting against the windows, and the wind howling, and the television…_

_KNOCK KNOCK._

_Tonks blinked, turned the television off with the remote and got swiftly to her feet. She grabbed her wand up from the coffee table and gripped it tightly, glaring intently at the door. _

Death Eater_, she thought instinctively. But she frowned. _No, it can't be. Since when do Death Eaters knock on the door?

_KNOCK KNOCK. _

_She crossed to the door and grasped the cool handle, but did not open the door. She briefly considered asking who it was, but that was silly. If it really was a Death Eater, they'd lie to her, and if it was someone she knew she wouldn't believe them anyway. Fingering her wand in her hand, she gripped the door handle tighter, hesitated and quickly wrenched it inward. _

_The blast of wind and spray of rain almost blinded her, but she squinted against it. Lighting flashed across the sky, followed by the usual bang of thunder a split second after it, illuminating only for a moment the dark, cloaked figure standing on her doorstep. Water droplets were running along the hem of the hood covering their face, an obvious sign that whoever it was they were drenched. She lifted her wand and pointed it at their chest, ready to demand answers, but the person beat her to the punch. A pale hand with long, elegant fingers slipped from the bottom of one sleeve, reached up and pulled the hood back to reveal a grubby, disheveled looking face. _

_Tonks sighed and nodded. "I had a feeling you'd come here." _

_If Draco was surprised, he didn't betray it through his expression. He just looked down at his feet, his sopping wet hair falling into his eyes. "Believe me, this is the last place I want to be. In the world. Ever." _

"_And you expect me to let you in with that ever-so polite welcome?' said Tonks, quirking an eyebrow. 'And here I was thinking Aunt Cissy was teaching you some good old, high society manners." _

"_You're part of Team Conscience, aren't you?' he retorted flatly. 'Isn't it in your policy guidelines to let in poor, unfortunate souls?" _

_Tonks nodded. "Yes it is, and when you find one be sure to let me know." She went to slam the door in his face, when a hand stopped the door short. She frowned as Draco pushed the door back open, his shoulders slumped in defeat. _

"_I just want to sit somewhere dry." _

"_Then go sit in a stable or something. If it was good enough for Jesus, it's certainly good enough for you too." _

_He didn't move. She considered slamming the door in his face again. He just looked so pathetic. It was obvious that a month on the run had done nothing positive for him. He was almost sickeningly thin (not that he hadn't always been skinny), his clothes hung off him like he were a clothes line instead of a person. There were dark circles under his eyes, droplets of water were streaming from his saturated hair, falling down his cheeks and forehead and rolling onto his eyelashes until he blinked them away. He looked, ironically enough, like a drowned ferret, and sickeningly enough she felt a single string of pity plucked for him. _

_She pursed her lips. "Where's your buddy Snape?" _

_Draco scowled. "That's none of your concern." _

"_It is if you don't want me to take you to the Ministry right now." _

"_Fine, take me to the Ministry.' Said Draco, deadpan. 'I honestly do not care. At least it will be warm there. Dry." _

_Tonks chewed on her lip in thought, her wand still pointed right at him threateningly. It went against everything she stood for. It went against her values, her opinions, her family and her friends, and yet she couldn't help herself. Her mind wasn't just thinking like a woman, a friend, a partner…it was thinking like an Auror. Like a strategist. He was just so pathetic and strategically it was too good of an opportunity. The once Draco Malfoy, now not even a flicker of that anymore. Perhaps that was just because he was cold and half-starved, or perhaps it was something else; she didn't know. Nor did she know where in her head it had come from to do what she was about to do. _

_Draco exhaled slowly, leaning up against the door heavily with one arm. "Nymphadora…please?' he muttered, looking as if he'd rather kiss Hermione than say 'please' to her. _

_She just looked at him, keeping her poker face up. Was she seriously considering this? Seriously considering letting this boy…this criminal…in her home? It was unethical. It was immoral. It was just wrong! _

_Tonks lowered her wand a little. She waited and waited, seeing if he would fidget. She gave him the 'Interrogation' look as Moody had taught her in her first year of training, glad to see it still worked. His eyes darted from her quirked eyebrow, to his feet, into the warm house behind her, to his feet and back to her face again. _

_She blew air out through her lips. "On two conditions.' She said. 'One…you hand your wand over to me right now before you even think of taking one step into my home." _

_Draco glared at her, his hand pressing against something under his robes on his hip she took to be his wand. "And if I don't?" _

"_Then I hope you're not allergic to hay.' She said, raising her pink eyebrows. _

_He didn't move. "How do I know you won't just stun me after I give it to you?" _

"_Because I'm the good guy.' She said, holding her left hand out expectantly 'Besides, my television show hasn't finished, and I wont be going anywhere, let alone the Ministry, while it's still on." _

_Draco glared at her for a long moment, and Tonks was actually beginning to think he'd just apparate away without another word and take her up her advice on that stable idea. But, after a very long, dramatic, drawn out minute he sighed angrily, reached into his robes, pulled out his wand and thrust it into her hand. _

_Tonks smiled and pocketed it. "Cheers, big ears." _

"_It's not bad enough you have to take away my last shred of dignity by making me beg, you have to take my wand as well?' He scowled. _

"_Yeah, well…thems the breaks, honey.' She said, surveying him suspiciously. Once she was satisfied he wasn't reaching for anything else offensive, she took a step backward._

_Draco went to move forward, but he stopped and looked at her. "So…what's the second condition?"_

_Tonks smiled and stepped aside to allow him entry. "Don't call me Nymphadora." _

"Needless to say we had a very long, witty chat after that.' Said Tonks, giving Remus a smile. 'Say what you want about him, but he's very quick with the sarcasm…a family trait, I bet…'

"Dora, focus.' Said Remus.

"I am a camera.' She said, giving him a serious look.

Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes. "And he's been compliant ever since?"

Tonks snorted. "When in the entire flashback did I ever give you the impression he would be _compliant_?Like I said before, he's a total shit. It's a wonder his parent even like him! But, then again they're shits too, so shit seems to be a generalization for that family."

"You're a part of that family.' Said Remus, unable to hide his smirk.

"Urgh, don't remind me.' she groaned. 'It's shameful enough just to know that we swim in the same gene pool."

Remus considered her for a long moment, the gears in his head spinning rapidly once more. He sniffed the air, thankful to finally be able to put a name to the scent he'd been unable to identify for just over a month. "I can't believe how long you've kept this from me."

"I haven't wanted to.' She said, sitting down with him. 'I've been bursting to tell you for weeks, but I've never had the words, or it's never been the right time. Truth be told, I was afraid you'd discover him before I got the chance to tell you."

"How would I have discovered him?"

"Well…you can smell him, cant you?"

"Yes, and I have been able to for some time now. I just didn't know what it was I was smelling."

Tonks frowned. "You didn't?"

"He smells like clean linen.' Said Remus, shrugging. 'Not really an indication of anyone I know, is it?"

"But you taught him at school!' she laughed. 'Didn't you recognize him from then?"

Remus gave her a look. "I taught him for nine months four years ago along with hundreds of other students. How am I meant to remember just one?"

"You know Harry."

"Harry's different.' Said Remus, looking at his feet. He rubbed the back of his neck in silence, and then looked up at Tonks again. 'Are you _sure_ he hasn't hurt you?"

Tonks smiled. "Yes, I'm sure."

"And you're sure he won't?"

"Well, I'm not one hundred percent sure… but I don't think he will, no."

Remus frowned. "I don't trust him."

"I don't trust him either.' Said Tonks softly, putting a hand on his knee.

Remus exhaled slowly through his nose. He knew he could trust her, even if he couldn't trust Draco. Tonks would never have done something like this if she didn't have good reason to or didn't feel strongly about it. It was part of the reason why he cared for her so much; her passion for everything. Trust was having confidence in something, knowing that you could rely upon it in any circumstance. Did he have that kind of trust in her? He knew he did.

He took her hands in his and looked her in the eye. "You've got an hour to convince me this is a good idea…start now."

Tonks grinned.

-----------------

Lily pulled the minute little box out of her pocket, set it down on the dining table and enlarged it to its original size with a wave of her wand. Smiling in satisfaction, she put her wand down on the table, lifted the lid off and began pulling out the school files inside. Rolls or parchment, old photographs, spare notebooks…everything the school had on the student known as Tom Marvolo Riddle. The investigative sleuth within her couldn't wait to get her mittens into this information. Voldemort's educational history fascinated her for some strange, sadistic reason. Maybe she just wanted to know more about the man who had killed her…what he was like before he went all gross and horrible… when he was still the age her son was now.

Behind her, somebody thumped down the stairs heavily and a male voice shouted, "Where have you been?"

Lily straightened up and blinked. "Dad? Is that you?"

"Ha ha, very funny.' Said Harry moodily, sitting on top of the table beside her. 'But don't change the subject…where have you been?"

"Hogwarts,' She sighed, pulling out another piece of parchment and scanning it quickly. 'But I'm guessing Ron already told you that."

Harry threw his hands up in the air as she began spreading the contents of the box out on the table. "Have you been swinging from power lines? What if someone _saw_ you?"

Lily smiled. "Someone did see me…but it was only Ginny, so no big drama there. Although she did mention that girl Luna you've mentioned. She sounds a bit quirky, doesn't she?"

"Changing the subject!' he cried. 'What if someone you used to know saw you there? Like and old school mate, or a student who knows what you look like, or a Professor?"

"Well, then, I'd say they'd find themselves rather shocked!' Laughed lily.

Harry looked at her incredulously as she continued to lay out the files. "You're unbelievable! You go on to me about being careful and taking value in my safety, and yet you walk around as if you almost _want_ someone to spot you!"

Lily stopped and looked at him. "Harry, darling, do you smell toast? Because I think you're having a stroke."

"I'm just worried, is all. And it doesn't help when you make fun of me.' he said moodily, folding his arms over his chest. 'You're just…you're important to me. And if anything happened to you…especially if it was preventable…'

"Harry, I don't mean to worry you.' Said Lily, coming back over to him. 'The last thing I want to do is be responsible for your first grey hair at the age of seventeen, but you need to get past this obsessive protective streak of yours. I told you I wasn't sitting on the bench anymore, remember? This is a championship game and I want to play a few rounds."

"I can't help it, I don't like it.' He said.

"I know you don't.' she said, running her fingers through his hair. 'And it's sweet that you care so much about me and my safety, but there are bigger things happening here than just me. We can't control things that are meant to be, and if the Fates want me…'

"They can't have you."

Lily sighed. "If the Fates want me, then there's nothing we can do about it."

Harry shook his head. "You say that now, when you're all calm and full of Orange juice, but if it came to the crunch you'd be singing a whole different tune. Are you seriously telling me that you're not furious at them for taking Dad?"

Lily pursed her lips. "No, I'm not furious. Because 'furious' isn't any where near the right word to describe how I feel about that."

Harry shut his mouth, realizing from his mother's expression that he'd pushed it too far.

"But, enough about that.' She laughed, kissing him on the forehead and going back to her organizing. 'What have you and Ron been up to while we girls have been out?"

"Oh, er…' stuttered Harry, wondering how on earth she could go from intense to easy going in such a small amount of time.

But he didn't get a chance to answer her question, for Hermione came down the stairs with her usual stack of books piled in her arms, followed closely by Ron who was doing the most peculiar thing with a meter long ruler.

"For heavens sake will you _cut that out_?' snapped Hermione, throwing Ron a look over her shoulder.

Ron smiled, but did not discontinue. He was waving the ruler around like a sword in battle, swishing it, twirling it, dancing around with it as if he were fighting off three armed enemies at once. Harry blinked in pleasant surprise as he watched his best friend. He'd never seen Ron do this before, but even to his untrained eyes he could see that Ron had done this before. Harry didn't even know that Ron could do this.

Hermione dumped her books on the table and gave Ron another scolding look. "He's been doing it all afternoon."

"Oh leave him be.' Laughed Lily, tucking her flaming hair behind her ear. 'He's very good at it after all."

"I'll say!' laughed Harry as Ron did another fancy move. 'Where the blazes did you learn to do that then?"

Ron smiled, twirled the ruler with a twist of his wrist and pretended to sheath it on his hip. "Bill taught me. Pretty cool, eh? Some of the wizards he was working with over in Egypt taught him, and when I saw him doing it I made him teach me."

"And how is it we didn't know you could do this until now?' asked Harry, folding his arms over his chest.

"Never asked, did you?' grinned Ron, shrugging.

"Yes, well, regardless of our ignorance you need to settle down.' Said Hermione, beginning to organize the papers Lily had laid out on the table. 'You could put an eye out with that thing."

Ron gave her a look. "It's a ruler. It's blunt."

"It still hurts when you whack someone though, doesn't it?' she retorted, returning his look.

"Yes, it does.' Groaned Lily. 'I remember getting smacked around the shins when I was naughty as a child. Made me think twice about opening the washing machine before it had finished again, I can tell you now."

Harry just laughed.

"Right, out with the both of you, go on!' said Hermione, waving her hands dismissively at the two boys.

"What? What are you on about?' demanded Ron, standing his ground stubbornly as Hermione tried to physically push him out.

"We have important work to be getting on with, and we can't do it with you two in here.' Said Hermione.

Harry looked at Lily, who just shrugged as if to say 'leave me out of this', and then looked back at Hermione. "What's that got to do with the price of milk? You've worked around us before. We're not _that_ distracting!"

Hermione sighed impatiently, now throwing her whole weight against Ron who was just standing there looking mildly amused. "Not when it comes to homework assignments and essays no, you're not. But this is far more involved than that! Far more complex and delicate and perplexing and sophisticated and enigmatic! We need to be at the top of our intellectual ability to be able to work our way through this and riddle out all the mysteries inside!"

Ron blinked, looking at her blankly. 'Wow. That was one beefy sentence."

"The point is it's _difficult_,' said Hermione impatiently, pushing Ron toward the door. 'And we can't have you two breathing down our necks like third world starved vampires. Now out with the both of you!"

Lily sat back and laughed as little Hermione managed to shove lanky Ron and Harry out of the room amid pleads. Hermione shut the door in their faces with a satisfied nod, drowning out their protests that it was afternoon tea time and that they would soon shrivel up and die without food in their bellies.

Hermione slumped against the door and sighed. "Honestly, those two…'

"They're cute.' Giggled Lily, swinging around toward the table. 'They want to sit with you and help but they don't want to admit it."

"How'd you figure that?' asked Hermione, coming to sit down at the table with her.

Lily smiled and reached for the closest piece of parchment. "Typical male behaviour. Besides, James used to do it to me all the time when I was in school. I'd be in the library, trying to study and he'd come and sit besides me and tap his quill and bounce his leg and read over my shoulder…it drove me absolutely bonkers."

Hermione looked at Lily in mild surprise. "Ron does that to me all the time."

"Does he really?' said Lily, suppressing a smile.

"Yes! It sends me right around the bend! He can be so infuriating! I usually end up reading the same sentence five times before I realize it, or I end up jotting down what he's been blabbering on about in my ear rather than the sentence in my head."

Lily nodded, covering her mouth to hide her grin. "Boys, eh?"

Hermione laughed and nodded, pulling as much information toward her as possible. "Tell me about it. But, enough about boys…lets get our teeth into this."

* * *

A/N – Not much to say about this one! I hope you liked it! Let me know your favorite part or line…you know how I like that feedback!

Please review!


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26!

* * *

Remus glared at Draco across the table. 

It was late morning, and Tonks was busy cooking breakfast in the kitchen with an almost disturbing perkiness for one in her position. She'd asked Remus over for breakfast, apparently under the impression that if he could spend a little time with Draco and her he could begin to understand what she was talking about when she said she didn't believe Draco intended her any harm. Remus had been very reluctant and doubtful that spending even two years in a Tibetan Monk village with Draco doing some refined soul searching, let alone a simple breakfast, would change his opinions of the boy even in the slightest, but Tonks's big blue eyes and gotten to him once again and he'd caved, taking it not just for an excuse to supervise proceedings, but to see if he could gauge any misgivings from the little twerp.

So Remus sat upright, stiff as a board and glared at him, and Draco just looked right back.

The silence was as heavy as the tension, but Tonks was completely oblivious. She'd been singing along with the radio as she cooked, obviously hoping that if she just let the two men be something productive would come of it. But, so far the only productive thing that had occurred was the conversion of oxygen to carbon dioxide.

Draco sat up a little straighter. "Something you would like to say to me, Professor?"

"I have many things I would like to say to you, _Draco_,' muttered Remus, 'none of which are considered polite conversation at the dining table."

"Such a shame I miss out on hearing them.' Said Draco, turning away. 'Make sure to arrange an appointment on your way out where we can discuss your loathing of me at a more appropriate time."

"Why you little…'

"Okay, here we go!' cried Tonks suddenly, cutting through the undertone argument. She turned off the stove and carried two large plates over to the table. 'Here you are my love, bacon and bacon with a side of bacon…'

Remus smiled thankfully up at her. "Thank you, Dora."

Tonks gave him a quick, dramatic 'mwuah' on the forehead. "And for _you _my little fugitive… your favorite! Low fat, whole wheat blueberry pancakes!"

Draco looked at the plate hovering beside his head, and then back up at Tonks, his steely expression replaced with a content, blank one. "Are there twelve?"

Tonks blinked. "Twelve what?"

"Blueberries. I can only have twelve Blueberries for breakfast."

"Or what?" she asked.

"What do you mean, 'or what'?"

"What happens if you have thirteen Blueberries?"

Draco sighed and looked back at his plate. "This is a silly conversation."

"Will you die?"

"Just hand me the plate."

"Only if you don't count."

"I won't count."

Remus watched in fascination as Tonks surveyed him carefully, fully away of the twitching of the corner of his mouth, before she smiled and placed the plate down in front of him. He raised his blonde eyebrows at her, before picking up his knife and the butter plate. Tonks then went back to the bench, retrieved the plate of toast and carried it back to the table where she sat down beside Draco and Remus.

Tonks sighed happily and helped herself to some toast and a slice of Remus's bacon. "So…dig in! I spent a whole ten minutes on this breakfast for you two…not that I mind…imagine having to feed _seven_ like Molly! Thank the Gods she's a witch, eh? If she was a Muggle she'd certainly find it a lot harder than she does now."

Draco cleared his throat, but didn't comment.

Remus threw him a look as he poured syrup over his pancakes. "You really didn't have to go to all this trouble, Dora."

"Oh, it's of no consequence.' She said, tapping his hand. 'I'm just glad we can all be sitting here…together…with our heads still attached…'

"Professor, could you please pass the jam?' asked Draco suddenly.

Remus tensed up and looked back at him. Draco was just waiting patiently, a slight upward quirk to his right eyebrow. He looked at Tonks, who nodded supportively at him. Remus clenched his jaw, looked back at Draco and passed the jar of strawberry jam over the table to him.

Draco took it gracefully. "Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome.' Muttered Remus.

Tonks laughed into her half-eaten slice of toast. "He may be an obnoxious little snot, but at least he has manners."

"I was taught to always have manners at the dinner table, despite whose table it might be.' Said Draco, taking his own piece of toast.

"Too bad those manners don't extend beyond that of the dining room.' Said Remus.

"Remus…' groaned Tonks.

"You're right, I'm sorry.' Said Remus, picking up his knife and fork. 'See? I'm eating…no complaints…just chewing…'

"You shouldn't talk with your mouth full.' Said Draco with a smirk. He looked away from Remus's glare, poked his toast with a frowned. 'This toast feels raw. Did you cook it properly?"

Tonks rolled her eyes. "I think I know how to cook toast.'

"Is it safe to eat raw toast?"

"Draco…"

"I don't want to get sick."

"Do I have to sit on you?' threatened Tonks, pointing her knife at him.

Draco pursed his lips, considered her for a long moment and went back to his pancakes.

Remus narrowed his eyes, trying to believe what it was he was seeing. The interaction between the two of them was completely mind-blowing. From the way they were acting, you'd think he was just a rude houseguest staying over for the weekend and not a criminal on the run from the Ministry and the Dark Lord alike. He was wearing a green polo shirt today. Remus recognized it as the shirt his mother had given him for his thirtieth birthday. Green seemed to suit Draco; probably a result of him being Slytherin. He looked so unassuming in Muggle clothing, that if you were to pass him on the street you wouldn't have a clue of whom and what he really was and was capable of. It was still surreal to think that Remus was actually sitting having breakfast with him.

Tonks sighed happily and brandished the pitcher of juice toward Remus. "Juice?"

----------------

Ron banged his fist on the door, slumping against it heavily as if it were the only thing holding him upright. "_Hermione_…open the door…_pleeeeeeeease_…."

Harry snorted and rested his elbows on his knees. "They're not going to open it! Just quit it, will you?"

"But I'm _hungry_.' Pouted Ron, mock sobbing. And they've been in there all night and all morning! We missed out on dinner _and_ breakfast because of them! Why can't we just pop in there for a second and get some food? Some sweet, _sweet_ sustenance…"

"We can just go to your mum's, you know."

"I'm going to die…"

"Ron…'

"I see the bright light…the tunnel, its calling me…grandpa? Is that you?"

Harry laughed. "And people think _I'm_ dramatic."

Ron pretended to sob some more as he banged on the closed kitchen door. "Where in the dictionary does it define this as fair? Why couldn't they go upstairs to do their research? The kitchen is for eating…for dining…for kitchen-y stuff. Is no place sacred? Does Hermione delight in making us suffer? Does she get some sort of twisted satisfaction from hearing me banging on the door? Does she get her jollies from making me beg?"

"I hate it when you haven't eaten in two hours,' said Harry, running his hands through his hair. 'You whine like such a girl."

"I have low blood sugar."

"No you do not!"

"If I say I do, will I get food any time soon?"

Harry sighed and stood up from the stair he had been sitting on, dusting off the back of his jeans. "If you're _that_ desperate, we can go down to the shop…'

Ron thumped his fist against the door again. "That is beside the point! This is _our house_. We should be able to use the kitchen whenever the hell we feel like it. But instead, there are _SOME PEOPLE_ who think that they _OWN THIS PLACE_ and can kick us out whenever they feel like it!" he cried into the keyhole.

"Not my fault Hermione finds you distracting.' Laughed Harry.

"It's not just me!"

"Yeah…no…it is."

Ron straightened up and gave Harry a look. "What are you trying to say?"

Harry smiled and shrugged, slipping his hands in his back pockets. "Well, it wasn't _me_ she was trying to physically shove out the door, was it?"

Ron blinked, stuck in a stupor. He opened his mouth to comment, but was saved the embarrassment of trying to come up with an excuse by the kitchen door opening and Hermione's head sticking out.

She smiled at them both. "Are you two quite done?"

"Actually, could we have a few more minutes?' said Ron. 'We need to decide if we really have died of starvation or not."

Hermione clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes as she stepped back and opened the door properly to let them both in. "I _hate_ it when you haven't eaten for hours…you whine like such a _girl!_"

But Ron didn't stop to retort, just rushed past her straight through to the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind him.

"Wow. Looks like you two have found a way to keep yourselves occupied!' asked Harry, making a much more humane entrance.

If he thought the table had been in a mess before he's been rather rudely shoved out, it was nothing compared to what he thought of it now. Not only was every inch of the table covered with parchment, but scrolls were uncurled over the edge of the table and rolling onto the floor like waterfalls, bits of scrap paper were discarded around the seats the two women had obviously been sitting in, scrunched up balls of paper were scattered around more randomly, apparently having been thrown over shoulders in a moment of frustration. It was a total pig sty, but Harry took comfort in the knowledge that all the best geniuses in the world had been slobs.

Lily sighed and sat back in her seat, rubbing her eyes. "Well, we did what we hoped to do and got as far as we could without having to brainstorm with you two boys."

"So what have you got so far?' asked Harry, taking a seat opposite her on the other side of the table.

"A little insight into a very complicated man.' Said Lily with a small smile. 'His school records are nothing short of amazing! I mean, to read them you'd think he was the bloody Pope, not the poster boy for all evil."

"His academic background is _astounding_.' Said Hermione, sitting down beside Lily. Her eyes were wide with that excited gleam she sometimes got when she discovered something that held her interest. 'Top student every year of his entire educational history at Hogwarts, Prefect, Head Boy…'

"Yeah, I know all this.' Said Harry, trying to suppress his impatience. 'Tell me something I _don't_ know about Tom Riddle."

"Once, in his third year, he spent three days in the hospital wing from accidentally sitting in a bowl of undiluted Bubotuber Puss.' Said Lily, wriggling her eyebrows.

Harry snorted. "Not that that isn't good information for when we're standing at the climax of war and are exchanging witty insults, but that wasn't really what I meant."

"Yeah, I know.' She sighed, shoving the particular report away from her. 'But it's damn funny anyway."

"Okay, I'm here!' cried Ron, re-entering the room with a plate of four ham and salad sandwiches, two biscuits, three packets of Chocolate Frogs and a bottle of Butterbeer in his other hand. 'Crisis is officially over – call off the proper authorities."

Hermione tsked mockingly as he sat down with Harry. "Shame. The men in white coats were so looking forward to meeting you this time."

Ron threw her a look as he bit into his first sandwich.

"People, may we return to the likely demise of the fate of the free world and its only possible salvation?' said Lily, poking the papers in front of her.

"Right, sorry.' Smiled Ron.

"Okay, well, what we could assume right from the get-go was that this isn't some little hot-heated kid wanting revenge on Muggles for their treatment of him.' Said Lily. 'Tom Riddle was a very cool, polite, well-liked student. All his Professors practically wanted to adopt him."

"Not all of them.' Murmured Harry.

"No, that's right, and that's where we got intrigued.' Said Hermione, brandishing a particular roll of parchment. 'Dumbledore was Riddle's Transfiguration Professor for all seven years of his education and wrote the most interesting notes in his reports. In Riddle's first years, Dumbledore would remark upon how gifted Riddle was and how he saw such potential in him, but as the years went on his impression seemed to morph into concern. A concern than none of his other Professors seemed to share."

"Dumbledore always did have a way of seeing things in people that no-one else could…or wanted to.' Said Harry softly.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, that's true, and he seemed especially perceptive towards Riddle."

"This meant that if we wanted to find anything truly interesting, we had to start reading between the lines.' Said Lily. 'His other Professors raved about him, yes, but some of them did share some of the concerns Dumbledore held."

Ron swallowed his mouthful of food. "What sort of concerns?"

"His obsession with certain subjects, his reluctance to socialize, his circle of what companions he did have…'

"Dumbledore said he didn't have any friends.' Said Harry. 'He said he didn't want any."

"And he probably didn't.' said Hermione. 'But he had to be polite to everyone to keep up the pretense that he was the model student everyone saw him as. Every step he took was careful and thought-out. I doubt he ever let his guard down once while around people, if he did his real nature would have shone through."

Ron blew air out through his lips. "You'd think you'd get sick of it after, what…the first _four years_?"

Hermione shrugged.

"Not that this isn't fascinating,' said Harry, leaning on the table eagerly, 'but what does this have to do with Horcruxes?"

"Well, we figured that since he made the diary and the ring while still at school that another Horcrux may be connected to this time period.' Said Lily, shuffling through some more papers. 'Obviously he wouldn't make one while he was still a kid in his third or fourth year…even _he_ wouldn't have that much power at that age…'

"So we narrowed it down to his final two years at Hogwarts, which worked well in our favor because he took fewer, more selective classes at NEWT level.' Said Hermione. 'Makes it more categorical and therefore easier to gauge a pattern from."

"What classes did he take?' asked Harry.

Lily grinned. "Ah, I'm so glad you asked! Look here, we have his class schedule! See, he didn't really let up his academic load all that much. He was still right into Potions and Charms and Arithmancy…'

"I don't blame him.' Muttered Hermione, sighing wistfully.

"…Defense against the Dark Arts believe it or not,' continued Lily, reading the form. 'History of magic, Ancient Runes…"

"How exactly is this narrowing it down?' asked Ron, his eyebrows arched. 'He sounds a lot like you, Hermione, getting his claws into everything possible."

"Yeah, but here's the interesting part.' Said Lily, tapping the parchment. 'Riddle was also taking Muggle Studies."

"He was _what_?" cried Harry, snatching the form out of her hand. He adjusted his glasses and read down the class schedule, hardly believing his eyes when they landed on 'Muggle Studies' at the bottom of the form. 'I don't believe this!"

Lily laughed and shrugged. "It's always the ones you least expect."

"No, it's not just that,' said Harry, handing the paper to Ron. 'Riddle was _raised_ as a Muggle. He knew everything about Muggles. It's completely pointless! Like that time _you _took Muggle studies in third year!' he said, gesturing to Hermione. 'And why would he even _want_ to take the class, considering his limited affection towards them? It just doesn't add up."

Hermione smiled. "Strategically it does in a way. The whole 'Know Thy Enemy' tactic is actually pretty smart. Seeing the Muggle world from a Wizards point of view was very enlightening…especially to someone who had grown up in that world. I suspect he learned a great deal in those classes."

Ron gave her a worried look. "You know, this whole relevance thing you have going on with Riddle is kind of starting to get weird."

"They're both brilliant,' said Harry with a smile, 'what do you expect?"

"Anyway, your questions are all valid, Harry, and it intrigued us too.' Said Lily, bringing them back to the matter at hand. 'So we started to dig our noses in a bit…see what we could find out. As expected, he did extremely well in the class. Never missed a session. His essays were always in on time…he was polite and considerate…the perfect student."

"We, of course, know better.' Grinned Hermione. 'I gathered up some information about that year's curriculum and what they would be studying. Nothing much out of the ordinary; Muggle stock market…foreign exchange… Hitler's takeover of Poland…'

"Something he probably found _very_ interesting.' Said Lily.

'…the sinking of the Titanic…invention of the microscope…Winston Churchill becoming the Muggle Prime Minster… all random events that are completely irrelevant to Horcruxes.' Said Hermione. 'But that didn't deter me…'

"Excuse me?' said Lily, giving Hermione a look.

Hermione smiled. 'Sorry…didn't deter _us_ from finding something substantial. So I kept reading and I discovered that as part of the curriculum, the Professor at that time had appealed to Headmaster Dippett and the School Governors to take his NEWT's Muggle Studies class into London for a day outing. To give them the 'hands on' experience I think was how he put it."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "A day outing away from Hogwarts? I didn't even know they did that."

"They don't.' said Lily, shaking her head. 'They never did it while I was at school either. This was a one-shot thing; a condition that the class was allowed to go was that it would never happen again. You can imagine the Governors hesitance to allow them to go – letting a class full of underage wizards roam in the streets of London with one single teacher? Not the best of ideas."

"So did they go?' asked Ron.

Hermione nodded. "According to these files they did…Riddle proudly amongst them. Turns out they weren't just to wander around aimlessly, ooh-ing and ahh-ing and random things like traffic lights and Buckingham Palace. They were taken to The British Museum to see into Muggle history."

Harry looked at her blankly. "Er, okay…again, that's fascinating, but it doesn't really stand out as anything special."

"No, we didn't think so at first either,' said Lily 'but we didn't want to sweep it carelessly under the rug…'

"Just incase there was anything there worth looking into more…' said Hermione.

"So we did a little more digging into it…' said Lily, looking for a certain piece of paper in the disarray.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. "Excuse me…just one second…what with you two finish each other's sentences?" asked Harry, raising his eyebrows.

Lily and Hermione looked at one another in mild surprise, apparently not having noticed they were doing such a thing. Lily smiled, put an arm around Hermione and smiled at Harry. "Great minds think alike, that's all."

Hermione went pink, trying not to look too happy with herself.

Ron grinned. "Horcruxes…'

"Yes, of course…er…' stammered Hermione, looking through the papers like Lily. She searched for a long moment, muttering under her breath about something, until she found a very large roll of parchment, yellowed and brittle with age. She unrolled it with a flick of the wrist and turned it over so Harry and Ron could see.

Harry squinted down at the almost intelligible writing. It was so small, and yet it took up almost every inch of the parchment. It was hurried and smudged in places and Harry recognized the style. It was the way Hermione wrote when she was particularly passionate about a subject. It was the way Snape had written his OWL answers from the Pensieve. Harry looked at the top of the page to see the name 'Tom Riddle, Slytherin' written there and it sent chills up Harry's spine. Voldemort had written this. He's actually _touched_ this parchment, used it in class, scrawled on it with his quill…"

"Blimey!' breathed Ron, ruffling his hair. 'This is some essay! Look how long it is! And his writing's bloody tiny!"

"Look at what the essay is _about_ you twit.' Said Hermione, tapping the parchment impatiently.

Harry read the title. "It's an essay on their day outing at the Museum."

"Hermione sat there and read the entire thing.' Giggled Lily, tapping Hermione on the back. 'Scarily enough however she seemed to enjoy it. Sat there and critiqued it like a mini McGonagall! Was rather eerie come to think of it."

"It was for _research purposes_.' Said Hermione.

Ron smiled. "Yeah, we all know what lengths you'll go to for research purposes."

Hermione threw a ball of paper at his head.

"Anyway, after reading this we started to get a lot more suspicious.' Said Lily. 'In this essay, he talks a lot about one certain artifact they found lying in the Anglo-Saxon exhibit."

"What artifact?' asked Ron.

"A stone basin.' Said Lily. 'The Muggle exhibitors took it to be some sort of ceremonial tool used by the High Priests of the time because of the runes on it. But its far more than that, they just don't know it."

"It's not just a stone basin,' said Hermione, 'it's a Pensieve."

Ron's mouth dropped open. "They have a Pensieve in a Muggle Museum on display for the entire world to see? Are they _mad_?"

"Well, obviously they don't _know_ it's a Pensieve.' Said Hermione. 'Wizards would if they went in there however, but it's just an empty basin. Muggles wouldn't have any idea about what it really is. To them it's just a bowl with hieroglyphics written on the side of it."

Harry nodded, starting to follow. "This is what he did his essay on."

Lily smiled. "Yes, that's right. He did detailed research into the museum itself and talked about the Pensieve as if it were his life's pursuit."

"But the essay wasn't the only place he talked about it.' Said Hermione.

Harry arched his eyebrows. "How would _you_ know where he talked about it?"

"Well…we went to see McGonagall about it just before, and she said she overheard Tom one day in the halls by the library, discussing it with his classmates – or his first batch of Death Eaters if you prefer to call them so.' Said Hermione.

Ron frowned. "You went to see McGonagall? _Again_?"

Hermione nodded. "Just now."

"How did _she_ overhear Tom Riddle at school?' asked Harry, suddenly very interested.

"Well, she went to school with him.' Said Lily. 'McGonagall was a little second year when Tom was in his seventh."

"Was she _really_?' said Harry, amazed at this new piece of information. He laughed, suddenly thinking of something. 'Does that mean that Dumbledore actually _taught_ her?"

Lily smiled. "He must have."

Harry burst out laughing. "Oh…oh, how would you feel? How _OLD_ would you feel? _Crikey_…oh, that's hilarious…'

Hermione shook her head with a grin. "Harry, sometimes you have a twisted and badly timed sense of humor."

"Oh come on, you have to admit…' chuckled Ron, thumping Harry on the back, 'that _is_ pretty funny."

Harry sighed happily and waved his hands, sobering up. "Sorry…I'm sorry…what were you saying? What did McGonagall hear?"

Lily grinned at him. "Well, she couldn't remember it all word for word, but she _did_ recall that he recognized the Pensieve not just for a Pensieve…but as _Rowena Ravenclaw's_ Pensieve."

"_WHAT?_" cried Harry, stunned. Ron's mouth fell open in shock, but he didn't get to comment from Harry's flurry of questions. 'Are you _serious_? How would he _know_ something like that? How would he know it wasn't just a regular Pensieve?"

"The runes along the outside were the usual markings of a Pensieve, but he recognized different shapes and patterns of some that were told to be the signature of Rowena. She would use various symbols and runes when she was sending mail to people in secret. A code if you will." Said Lily.

"So I went back to my book on the founders and had a good look at the detailed history of Rowena Ravenclaw, and it said that indeed she came up with her own detailed runes for personal use.' Said Hermione, looking very professional. 'The runes were put into translation books for the subject of Ancient Runes, but no-one every really knew what they meant except Ravenclaw herself. But that's another story for another time…the point is this may be the very thing we're looking for!"

Harry ran his hands through his hair, his mind going a million miles an hour. Was it possible? Could one of the last pieces of the puzzle really have been sitting in broad daylight all this time? How could Dumbledore not have thought of this? Not have _known_ about this?

"But, how could it be?' asked Ron, almost voicing Harry's very thoughts. 'It's locked up in a museum! Isn't there alarms and bells and guards and security around everything in there? How would he have gotten it out? And if he did, how would no-one have noticed?"

"I have theories on that.' Said Hermione, pointing at him with a smirk.

Ron sighed. "Of course you do."

"I thank you not to sneer.' Said Hermione pompously, pulling more paper toward her.

"Hermione has good theories.' Said Lily, nodding. 'She's very theoretical."

"Right, so…my opinion on this matter is that while he would have had the plan in his mind ready, Riddle would not have made the Pensieve a Horcrux while still at school.' Said Hermione, reading notes off a notepad. 'He would have had to have done it _after_ his educational years had finished because A, there's no way he would have been able to murder someone without anyone knowing about it and B, Dumbledore would have been too closely watching him for him to be able to even blow his nose without Dumbledore knowing."

Harry smiled. "Preventing murder and keeping a soul intact. Is there _nothing_ Dumbledore couldn't do?"

Lily nudged Hermione. "Ignore his random sarcasm…go on."

"Don't worry, I always do.' Grinned Hermione. Harry threw her a look of mock insult before she went on. 'Anyway, it makes more sense for him to have done it out of school, because we know he didn't even learn about Horcruxes properly until his seventh year from Slughorn… thanks to that memory you had such a fun time retrieving, Harry. Out of school there would be a lot more options for him. A lot more ways to manipulate the system. If he wanted that Pensieve, he would have it, and no Muggle security system would stop him."

"But how would he get in to a public place, get past the security guards, take the Pensieve out, go kill someone, imprint his soul into that lovely piece of mistaken crockery and put it back again without anyone noticing?' asked Harry.

"Oh, I know!' cried Ron, smacking Harry in the arm with the back of his hand.

Hermione groaned. "Oh Lord, here we go…'

"What if he got a bunch of his Death Eaters, Polyjuiced them all into the security guards, and then _they_ could arrange it so Riddle had a clear shot at the Pensieve?' said Ron, looking around excitedly."

Hermione started blankly at him. "You just jump at whatever explanation is the wildest and most far-fetched don't you?"

Ron frowned at her defensively. "Well, why _couldn't_ he have done that? Just because its not one of _your_ theories…'

"There's no way possible he could get hairs from an entire workplace of security guards, let alone get all his Death Eaters to impersonate them!"

"And why is that?"

"Because it's careless and sloppy and it's not his style!"

"Since when do you know '_his style'_?"

"Children, _please_!' cried Lily, holding her hands up. She looked at the two fuming teens in amazement, and then at Harry. 'Does this happen often?"

Harry nodded. "Welcome to my world."

Hermione and Ron glared at one another, before Hermione lifted up her chin and cleared her throat, griping her pad a little more forceful than was probably necessary. "One of my theories was that he wouldn't even have to technically take it out of the museum at all."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "And how would he manage that miraculous feat?"

"Do you remember back in third year when we went to save Sirius?' asked Hermione.

"No, I don't. Remind me of how that went again.'

"Harry, don't be a prat, I'm being serious – no pun intended.' Muttered Hermione as an afterthought. 'Do you remember how we did it? With the Time Turner?"

Harry groaned and rubbed his head. "Yeah, that time travel concept still gives me a headache. You're probably one of the few people in the world who understands it."

Hermione sighed. "Well…Ron, you wont remember, because you were asleep…but remember how when we were all done and came back to the hospital wing, it was as though we never left? We returned the split second our past selves were leaving, thus it was as though we'd never left. If Dumbledore hadn't been there, no-one would have been the wiser about what we had done."

"Yeah, see…I wasn't even there for all of this and even _I'm _getting a headache.' Said Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "My theory was that Riddle could have done the same thing. He could have organized a distraction, taken the Pensieve and put it back without anyone even noticing it. In the split second it would have taken to steal it, he would have returned it the same as it was."

"How would he have done that though?' asked Harry. 'For that he would have needed his own Time Turner, and I can't see the Ministry just giving those out to someone without a good reason for why they needed it. You yourself said you only had one because of McGonagall's recommendation, Hermione."

"Yes, but you forget where all the Time Turners were kept until their timely demise.' Said Lily.

Ron's eyes widened. "The Department of Mysteries."

"Exactly! And who do we know that worked at the Department of Mysteries and also liked to lick Voldemort's boot on a regular basis?" said Lily, looking at Harry and knowing he knew the answer.

Harry nodded, his expression dark. "Rookwood."

"He could have easily gotten a Time Turner to Riddle.' Said Hermione. 'Everyone at the Ministry trusted him, and they wouldn't suspect him wanting to use the Turner for foul play."

Harry ran his hands through his hair. It all fitted perfectly. His knowledge of time travel was limited, but from his own personal experience he knew how easily being in two places at once could be done. If Voldemort took the Pensieve out, made it a Horcrux, set back the Time Turner for the right moment and took it back, no-one really would know it had been taken at all.

"Something doesn't make sense though.' Said Harry, slipping his fingers under the frame of his glasses and rubbing his eyes. 'Not that I don't believe in this theory because I do, it's just that… why would Voldemort even take the Horcrux back in the first place? Why wouldn't he hide it somewhere like he hid the locket or the cup?"

"Perhaps he thought it would be safest there.' Said Lily. 'Think about it this way – it's in a museum. A Muggle museum. Who in their wildest dreams would take something as flamboyant as that for what it really was? Even if a wizard did happen to come across it, and even if they knew it was Ravenclaws, they would have no idea that it was a Horcrux! Nobody even knew about the Horcruxes until just a few years ago, did they? And even if they did, they certainly wouldn't risk exposure in an attempt to get it. Voldemort probably thought it would be safe there, and if you really think about it…it kind of is."

"But how do we even know it _is_ the real Horcrux?' asked Ron. 'What's to say he didn't transfigure something and replace it? Put in a mock Pensieve?"

"That's a possibility too.' Said Hermione, looking off into space thoughtfully. 'But we won't know for sure unless we can get a good look at it."

"You mean unless _you_ can get a good look at it.' Said Ron, giving her a grin.

Hermione smiled and turned pink once more.

Harry sighed. "Look, this is all well and good, but we're still left with one major problem."

"And what's that?' asked Lily.

"If it _is_ a Horcrux, how the hell are we going to get it out of that museum?" asked Harry.

A long, stumped silence followed this question, and Harry knew that despite their hours of research Lily and Hermione had not yet gotten to his part of the plan. Hermione was looking at Lily, ready for any sort of answer, and Lily was looking right back, clearly as stumped as Hermione was.

"We take it.' Said Ron suddenly, folding his arms over his chest.

The other three looked at him in amazement. He was just sitting there, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded over his chest and a confident expression on his face. Harry wondered what was in his head to cause such a confidence boost, but didn't get the chance to ask as Hermione cut through first.

"Are you suggesting we break into the British Museum and steal a priceless artifact from under their noses?' she breathed. 'There's no possible way we could get in there without being caught, even with magic and even if we had a Time Turner at our disposal! Ron, security is far more advanced now that it was in the forties! There's digital surveillance and laser tripwires and sophisticated alarm systems and…'

"Thinking of pulling a Tom Cruise, are you, Ron?' grinned Lily. 'I think you'd look rather handsome in a black jumpsuit….don't you, Hermione?"

Hermione blinked. "No…I don't…I'm not…'

"No, I'm not suggesting we break in at all!' laughed Ron.

"Then what _are_ you suggesting?' asked Harry, very interested.

Ron looked at Harry for a moment, before he smiled, got to his feet, grabbed Harry by his shirt and yanked him to his feet also. "Ron, what are you… ?'

"I'll leave you two ladies to delve into this further.' Said Ron, giving a startled Hermione and Lily a smile. He turned to Harry and began leading him out of the room. 'Come on you, let's go… I have an idea."

"What? Where are we going?"

"To see Kingsley. I'll explain on the way."

---------------------

It was another late afternoon, and the Prime Minister was once again hunched over his desk absorbed in paperwork.

Thankfully, this particular Saturday afternoon he wasn't the only daft blighter still working late. Half of his data team was still there, not to mention his publicists and a few other people whose jobs were too complicated to think about at such a late hour. And although he enjoyed the company, he had told all staff that he was not to be disturbed. The fate of England waited for no man or cappuccino, after all.

The ticking of the clock of the mantle was like a depressing monotone, signaling just how slow time was passing. He could hear the occasional passing car down in the street below, but other than that there was no noise to be heard. As a force of habit by now, he glanced up from his papers to the portrait on the opposite wall to find it still just a blank background with no person to be seen. He inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

The Minister put his pen down and rubbed his weary eyes, wishing he could be at home by the fire with a whiskey in his hand when there was a knock at the door.

"I am not to be disturbed!' he called tiredly.

The door opened anyway, and the bald head of Kingsley Shacklebolt poked through. "Forgive the intrusion, Minister, but I need to speak with you."

The Minister tensed. Ever since he'd found out that Kingsley was 'one of them', he'd been very on edge around him. It was a shame, because Kingsley was one of the best staff members he could recall having in his time in office.

He sighed and picked up his pen once more. "What is it, Kingsley? I'm very busy at the moment."

"I know that sir, and it pains me to come to you like this.' Said Kinsley, coming into the room properly and shutting the door behind him.

The Minster froze. "What are you talking about? Has…is Scrimgeour wanting to see me?' he whispered, looking around.

Kingsley shook his head. "No sir, someone else is requesting an audience with you."

"Now?' said the Minister, looking at his watch. 'Who the devil would want to be speaking to me now?"

_CRACK_.

The Minister let out a cry as two people suddenly popped into existence in front of his desk. The Prime Minister leapt up out of his seat and looked at the two new people with wide eyes of alarm, taking note of how young they were.

"What is this? Kingsley, what's going on? Who are you people?' the Prime Minister demanded with regal authority.

The two boys looked at one another, and then the shorter one with unruly black hair and glasses stepped forward. "Sir, I'm sorry to be bothering you when you've obviously very busy doing Minister-y things, but this is something of an emergency."

"I'll ask you again – who are you?' snapped the Minister again.

The boy sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "My name's Harry Potter, sir, and this is my friend Ron Weasley."

The Prime Minister's eyes widened as his anger slipped away to reveal his shock. He frowned at the be-speckled boy in amazement, quite unable to believe his eyes. He shakily reached for his chair behind him, knowing he would soon fall into it. No-one noticed Kingsley slip out of the room quietly.

"You…' he stuttered, pointing a shaky finger at Harry. 'You…_you're _Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded, not at all surprised to know that this man knew his name.

The Prime Minister's knees gave out. He flopped into his seat and just stared at Harry with a frown of disbelief. "But you're just a _boy_."

Harry clenched his jaw, drawing in the supportive presence behind him that was Ron. "Sir, I know you and I have never met, and that what I'm about to ask you is going to sound completely insane and impossible…but we need your help."

The Minister shut his gaping mouth, reclaiming some of his sense. "_My_ help?"

"I know you know of the struggle we're going through at the moment, and lately it's taken a rather bad turn for the worst.' Said Harry, trying not to show his emotion. 'But we can change that back to our favor if you help us."

"_Me_?' laughed the Minister. 'What can _I _do? I'm not like you. I don't have magic spells I can use. I'm just a…what is it you call us…a _Muggle_?"

"Your position as Prime Minister gives you more power than you think it does.' Said Harry softly.

The Prime Minister surveyed Harry and Ron skeptically. "Did Scrimgeour send you here?"

Harry smiled humorlessly. "Scrimgeour doesn't know I'm here, and if he did he'd probably have a pink fit. I'm not working for him; I'm working with others who believe in a more practical approach to our situation. A group that the Minster of Magic doesn't really know about."

The Minister raised an eyebrow. "Practical?"

"The point is, sir, that we can't do this without you.' Said Harry.

"Well, we probably could,' said Ron with a smile, 'but it'd land us in a whole heap of trouble."

The Prime Minister sat up straight, surveying the two boys in front of him in silence. So _this_ was the great Harry Potter…the so-called savior of their magical community. He didn't see how this boy could handle such pressure. He was only a boy! He was probably still waiting for normal body parts to arrive. He should have to worry about puberty and girls and acne, not evil psycho killers and an entire world looking up to him to save them. His pre-perception of this boy had always been that he was a young man in his twenties, ready to face life head on and do what he had to do. But this boy was barely a shadow that. He slouched with that teenage awkwardness so common for adolescence. He looked burdened and tired, yet resigned and determined to do what needed to be done. It didn't seem fair that the fate of the magical world was on his shoulders. He was just so young!

Was he, the Prime Minister of England, going to just sit there and deny this boy the help he so desperately wanted and needed?

He straightened up. "What do you need me to do?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a smile and sat down in front of the Prime Minster's desk.

* * *

A/n – how about that, huh? Do let me know your opinions, I love hearing them! 

Please review!


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27!

* * *

The museum wasn't particularly busy today. Such a shame too, because being that it was a long weekend it meant that more families could take more time out of their day to drop by for a visit and admire the many exhibits the British Museum had to offer. Not to say that there weren't people wandering their halls already. Elderly couples walking slowly together, taking the time to admire the various artifacts, tour groups following a fast-walking tour guide around like dogs following a bone, clicking away with their cameras and looking at their brochures, parents strolling around with toddlers hanging off their ankles, tugging at their sleeves and asking 'can we go yet?'. 

But not a single teenager in sight.

It made sense. Teenagers certainly had other things they'd rather be doing with their weekend than walking around a museum, looking at artifacts and portraits and exhibits that were from an era they knew nothing about. They'd much prefer to be outdoors in the sun, or sleeping in until two in the afternoon, or sitting at their computers playing video games. Things from _their_ era. Things they understood and took comfort in.

And so, the halls of the museum allowed a gentle trickle of visitors, causally strolling along in wonder at all the mysterious objects the hallowed corridors held, making it the type of day where you didn't have to stand in line to pay admission at the front door, or step around people when you passed them in the halls.

It was absolutely perfect.

At exactly three forty seven in the afternoon, Petunia Dursley strode quickly around the corner, her heels clicking impatiently on the hard floor. She adjusted her purse primly on her shoulder and lifted her chin up with her usual air of business-like grace, her demeanor conveying to all that she was in no mood for nonsense.

She looked over her shoulder and sighed irritably when she found no-one behind her. "For heavens sake, will you two get a move on? Stop dragging your feet."

There was a moment's silence, and then Vernon Dursley plodded around the corner with a sour look on his face, Dudley his lump of a son not far behind him.

"We're coming.' Said Vernon, pulling Dudley around so he was walking in front of him. 'Not all of us can walk as fast as _you_, you know."

"Besides, what's the hurry?' asked Dudley, rubbing his blonde hair and wincing as though he had a headache. 'These exhibits aren't going anywhere anytime soon."

Petunia sniffed, her nostrils flaring. "It was both _your_bigideas to come here and now you're complaining like school children made to do physical education."

"Who _wouldn't_ complain?' muttered Dudley, looking down at himself.

"Just come on the both of you. I have things at home I need to be doing.'

Petunia bustled off again, her heels clicking after her. Vernon and Dudley looked at one another, sighed and wobbled off after her.

They passed only a few people on their navigation of the building. Some couples enjoying a nice intellectual day at the museum, a few tour groups who were too busy taking photo's and asking questions to notice anyone else, the odd security guard standing by a door or talking on their walkie-talkies and other random people wandering around, but other than that there seemed to be no other distractions.

They went up two more flights of stairs, stopping only for Petunia to check on the map where they were and which way they should go, before they rounded their final corner on the third floor and Petunia stopped short, causing Vernon to crash into her and almost knock her violently to the ground.

"Ow, that _hurt_!' snapped Petunia, rubbing the small of her back as she threw Vernon a glare.

"Well what do you expect, stopping dead in the middle of a hallway?' retorted Vernon, his moustache twitching. 'Only crazed women like you do that. And deer's! And some deer's actually have the sense to move!"

"Don't take that tone with me,' hissed Petunia harshly, looking around to make sure no-one was watching the scene they were making. 'Not in a public place and certainly not in _this_ public place!"

Vernon swelled up but said nothing, just turned another beautiful shade of purple.

Dudley however had ignored this entire argument. He'd walked right around his boulder of a father and pool cue of a mother and right up to the archway that had the words "Anglo-Saxon Exhibit" printed above it.

Upon spotting him, Petunia hit Vernon rapidly in the arm. "Quick…get out the video camera. I want to film everything!"

"Everything?' said Vernon, tripping over himself as he tried to pull the small video camera out of the bag slung over his shoulder while trying to keep up with Petunia's furious pace. 'Even those old people over there? The ones who have been staring out the window for ten minutes, thinking it's a painting of London?"

"Just hurry _up_!"

Dudley adjusted the waist of his jeans as he walked as if in a daze, his eyes looking around in wonder at the many artifacts this one room held. Tapestries and shields and armour from battles fought long ago, cases with grimy aged coins, helmets, swords, pendants, sculpture, rings, chalices…so much history, and yet he was blind to it all but one piece lying inconspicuously in its own, free-standing case by the corner amongst the 'Ritual' instruments. There was no-one in this room except for one, burley, balding security guard by the other entrance. He eyed the three Dursleys for a moment and smiled politely when he caught Petunia's eye.

"This is it.' Muttered Dudley, his chins wobbling and his eyes bulging.

Petunia came to his side and peered at the stone bowl in the glass case. It was sitting on a purple velvet cushion, cracked up the side and stained with age. The runes along the outside were a dull blue, a shadow of what their former brilliant midnight blue used to be. It was old and forgotten yet undoubtedly exquisite.

"Okay, here we go…' said Vernon, coming over to them. He had the black camera in his hands, turning it over with a look of confusion on his face. 'How do you…where does it…oh, what does this do? Oh, it opens! Here, what button do I…oh, there's a light! There's a red light! What does the red light mean? It's flashing!"

"Oh honestly, give it here.' Sighed Petunia, taking the camera off him. She flipped open the eyepiece, took off the lens cap, held it up and began recording the basin. 'Move aside…and remember, if we're not done by four o'clock, you need to have a drink from your bottles.'

Dudley stepped back out of the way to let his mother circle the cabinet like a hawk, recording the case with as much detail as she thought she needed. He fiddled with the bottom of his shirt and shivered. "I _hate_ this."

"Yeah, tell me about it.' Muttered Vernon, scratching his thinning hair. 'I just want to get home and have a shower for the next four hundred years."

"I still don't see why _I_ had to be Dudley.' Whined Dudley, giving Petunia a look.

Petunia smiled as she continued to circle slowly, her knees bent a little to bring her level with the bowl. "Would you rather have been me?"

"No, not really.' Muttered Dudley, blushing. 'I prefer to look at boobs rather than have them."

"So would I.' grunted Vernon, giving Dudley a look. 'Alas…a severe case of man-boob-itis.'

Dudley cried out in disgust and clapped a hand over his eyes. "Oh, don't! _Please_! The last thing I want to see is my uncle doing…_that_!"

Vernon looked up from his chest, which he had been playing with his large, dropping pecks and laughed at Dudley. "You think I _want_ to be doing it? The man needs a bra like five years ago."

"Boys, this is _not_ the way a family would talk.' Said Petunia, giving Vernon and Dudley a warning look. 'Do try and keep up appearances, would you?"

"Look at us!' said Vernon, spreading out his arms. 'We have reason to complain!"

Petunia sighed, cast a glance over her shoulder at the guard to make sure he wasn't listening and dropped her voice to a soft whisper. "Look, if you must know…_you're_ Dudley because you know Dudley better than us and can therefore impersonate him more effectively than either of us could and _you_…' she paused as she looked at Vernon. 'Well… you I just don't trust in _any_ woman's body. Even if it _is _Petunia Dursley's."

Vernon scoffed. "I beg your pardon? I know plenty how to behave accordingly!"

Petunia raised her blonde eyebrows at him, mildly surprised. "You _wanted _to be a woman?"

"Beats being a Sperm Whale.' Said Vernon, slapping his huge stomach and making it wobble.

Petunia smiled, shook her head and went back to her filming.

Vernon smiled, pleased as always to make her grin and looked to Dudley to share in the joke, but Dudley seemed not to have heard any of this exchange. He was looking at the guard over by the door with an eerie expression one was not accustomed to seeing on Dudley Dursley's face – thoughtful.

"What are you thinking about?' muttered Vernon curiously.

Dudley nodded toward the guard. "You think he can hear what we're saying?"

Vernon looked at the guard and shrugged. "Who knows? But as long as we don't talk about you-know-who's you-know-what and how we plan to get you-know-what out of you-know-where we should be set, right?"

But Dudley didn't answer. Instead, he slowly reached into his pocket, hesitated and then pulled out his wand. He took a step behind Vernon to shield what it was he was doing, keeping an eye on the guard. He waited again so that not just the guard wasn't looking but Petunia as well. Once Petunia had her back to him, her concentration solely on the cabinet and her filming, Dudley slipped the tip of his wand through just under Vernon's armpit and thought '_Muffliato_'. The guard seemed to still, his eyes glossing over for just a second, before he blinked and went back to normal.

Vernon grinned as Dudley put his wand back in his pocket and came back out of hiding. "Brilliant idea."

"Don't tell Hermione I did that.' Muttered Dudley, giving Petunia a look. He patted Vernon his large shoulder with his beefy hand and, very casually, walked around Petunia and walked right up to the guard with a smile. 'Excuse me, Sir, do you have the time?"

The guard smiled and lifted up the cuff of his sleeve. "Yep…five to four, son. You and your family out for the afternoon, are you?"

Dudley smiled and nodded. "Yeah, that we are. My mother, well, she has a massive fascination with all things Anglo and Saxon alike, so she was just busting to get up here."

"How about you, then?' smiled the guard, folding his sledgehammer like arms over his chest. 'You into this sort of stuff yourself?"

"You have no idea." Smirked Dudley.

"Don't get many your age down this part, though,' said the guard conversationally, looking around the exhibit. 'Most of the time its old folk or history buffs. Although, admittedly we do get a few teens in here doing research for some school assignments they've been assigned to do_oYEOW_!" cried the guard suddenly, looking around in alarm.

Dudley blinked. "What is it? Sir, you alright?"

"Er, yeah…I'm right…' he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. 'Must have caught my hair in the bricks again. Don't worry, happens all the time!' he laughed, wincing.

"Dudley, come on!'

Dudley looked around to see Vernon stuffing the camera back into his bag and Petunia looking at Dudley urgently, tapping her watch with wide eyes of alarm. Dudley nodded, his two chins wobbling and he gave the guard one last smile.

"Thanks again. See you!"

The guard waved them off, and the three Dursleys rushed out of the room, down the corridor and into the nearest toilets. They didn't care that Petunia was in the mens, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that the three Dursleys had to be seen leaving the same way they came in.

"Quick, here…' said Petunia, pulling out three flasks from her purse. She handed a silver one to Vernon, a gold one to Dudley and kept the plastic one for herself. As one the three of them took a long gulp of the disgusting liquid, swallowed it back and tried desperately not to dry reach.

"Ack…buggering bloody _hell_…' cursed Vernon, wiping his tongue along the back of his sleeve. 'Why can't anyone come up with a way to make that potion taste more like chocolate and less like Thestral dung?"

"This from a guy who can sit there and eat an entire box of Bertie Botts without any complaint what-so-ever.' Spluttered Petunia, smacking her lips.

Dudley shivered, feeling the change wane and his physical sense of normalcy return. "We wouldn't have _had_ to have taken it if you two would have just shut your traps about muggle transportation and just apparated over here."

Petunia sighed and straightened herself up, checking her reflection in the mirror. "Muggles do not apparate, they drive."

"We could have apparated at a safe-spot.' Said Vernon, smoothing out his jacket. 'We're not dumb enough to apparate in the middle of the street."

"Apparation safe-points are being guarded now.' Said Petunia, holding the bathroom door open for the two men. 'What do you think the reaction would be for Harry Potter's very _Muggle_ family to arrive at one of them suddenly, each carrying wands and able to wield magic?"

"We could have done it another way is all I'm saying.' Muttered Ron, leading the way out of the bathroom. 'The bus trip wasted all that time."

"Look, it doesn't matter.' Said Dudley. 'The point is we did what we wanted to do. Now can we get just out of here? I don't want to be a part of the primate species any longer than I have to."

-------------------

Lily sat at the dining table alone in silence, her index finger running around the rim of her wineglass in slow, lazy circles. She stared into the empty glass as if it held all the answers to every question she had ever asked. She was antsy and agitated, and it seemed the only way to calm her. Waiting was always the bit she hated.

It was strange in that aspect. Lily had always known herself to be a patient person (she had to be, look who she was married to!). She'd never been the type to sit by the phone, tapping her foot and looking at her watch every two minutes wondering what was taking so long. But then, she'd never been the mother of a teenage boy before. She'd never been the mother of a _hero_ before. She'd never had to worry if he was alright, or if he'd been ambushed by Death Eaters, or if he was currently sitting in a cell in a muggle jail for suspicious activity. She felt sick, nauseated with worry, but scoffed at herself for being so silly. She was worrying about him going _this_ time? What would she be like the next time when it was for real? When he could get caught and thrown into either muggle or wizard prison? She hated that he could make her worry so much.

CRACK.

"It is not _my_ fault! And no matter how much you yell at me nothing with change that!"

"You of _all_ people know what time restrictions are! Your entire life is bloody ruled by them!"

"Honestly, what was I meant to do? Stun the woman and run off in the other direction?"

"That's an idea, yes!"

"Well, then, its good to know universal human intelligence wasn't wasted on _you_, now isn't it!"

Lily was on her feet instantly. She blinked and looked in amazement at the scene before her. Vernon and Petunia Dursley were standing two feet from one another, red faced and looking furious at one another. Dudley Dursley was shaking his head in inevitable relent, sitting himself down at the dining table with a ruffle of his blonde hair. They were the spitting image of her sister, brother-in-law and nephew that it took her a good long minute to remember that it wasn't really them.

"What's going on?' asked Lily.

The three of them looked around at her, surprised to see her. Apparently they had not been expecting her to be waiting for them.

"Nothing,' sighed Petunia, giving Vernon a look. 'Just a difference of opinions."

Lily just looked at her, a peculiar expression on her face.

Petunia exchanged a look with Dudley, then looked back at Lily. "Mrs. Potter? Are you alright?"

"Oh, er…' stuttered Lily. She stared at Petunia for a long moment, caught in a daze, before she blinked and realized that she was staring. 'Sorry, it's just…I haven't seen Petunia look at me like that in…a really long time."

An uncomfortable silence ensured. Petunia looking very uncomfortable with herself all of a sudden. Dudley wanted to say something to make it all better, but what was there to say really? His mother's relationship with her sister was just one of those things they just didn't talk about, like the first eleven years of Harry's life, or who was better out of Superman and Batman.

Lily shook herself and smiled, beaming at them all in attempt to cover her muddy, emotional tracks. "So, remind me…which one of you ugly people is my son?"

Vernon laughed and pointed to Dudley. "The Mini Me over here."

"Ah, yes, of course!' laughed Lily, holding her arms out. She rushed over to the pudgy young blonde and threw her arms around him, planting a very firm kiss on his cheek. 'Harry, there's something different about you!"

Harry as Dudley smiled and hugged her back, for some reason not feeling embarrassed about sharing a bear hug with his mother. "Mummy."

"What is it about you that's different?' sighed Lily, looking at her son with narrowed eyes, from his blonde hair to his flabby stomach right down to his bulgy little feet. 'No no, don't tell me…I'll figure it out…"

"You don't know how weird that is!' laughed Ron, sitting his Vernon Dursley bum down gingerly on a stool. 'Dudley Dursley, hugging his dead Aunt, calling her 'Mummy' of all things."

"Oh well, stranger things have happened.' Said Lily, taking her son by the arms. She looked at him critically, her expression showing one of distaste. 'Although, I still don't see why _you_ had to be Dudley."

Harry threw his flabby arms up. "That's what _I_ said!"

"So, how much longer is this,' said Lily, poking Harry's porky cheek, 'going to last on you three?"

"Well, considering Hermione's little gossip hour and the time it took to get back on the bus…' said Ron, giving Hermione a significant look as he rolled up his sleeve, '…about ten more minutes I'd say."

"Mmm, good, cause you three being polite and good-natured is starting to freak me out.' Said Lily, giving them all a look. 'Dursley's are not meant to be friendly or polite, just like pigs aren't meant to eat bacon. Some things are just so many kinds of wrong like that."

"Good disguise though,' remarked Ron, looking down at himself, 'even if my belly alone does take up four different area codes."

Hermione hit him on the shoulder, marking a strange resemblance to another married couple Lily knew. "Stop being mean. It was a good idea, Harry. I just wonder how you got the hairs to make this potion work."

Harry contorted Dudley's face into a grin. "The same way Mum got the hair from that Security Guard I was talking to at the Museum – with the Invisibility Cloak."

"It's a good thing Moody's been stock-brewing Polyjuice Potions,' said Ron, rubbing his chest as if he were in pain, 'otherwise we'd find ourseleves rather stuffed."

"He decided it was the best thing to do incase situaitons like these were ever to arise.' said Hermione. 'Tonks is the only one of us who doesnt need Polyjuice, but we can't expect her to be morphing into possibly hundreds of different people all the time when we're perfectly capable of doing it ourselves."

"I still can't believe you followed the three of them around under that cloak of yours.' Chuckled Lily. 'Didn't you bump into them at all? Didn't Vernon smoosh you against the wall as he walked past? Didn't Petunia's nose put your eye out?"

"No, nothing like that!' laughed Harry. 'Although it was pretty funny to see them wonder why their heads kept hurting, or why doors kept opening and closing on their own, or to see them run out of the house screaming because I made everything in the living room levitate and…' He stopped mid-laugh as he noticed the other three looking at him in amazement. Harry cleared his throat and organized his expression into a serious one. 'Or, you know…so I would imagine.

Lily laughed, shook her head and looked at Hermione, suppressing a shiver to see not Hermione's face but her own sisters. "How did everything go?"

Hermione smiled, an eerie sight considering that Petunia didn't seem to know how to smile. "Very well, considering I had to use my wand in a public place. Harry distracted the guard long enough for me to work my magic, no pun intended, and I could get the answer we desperately wanted."

"And?' urged Ron, waving his big hands impatiently. 'Is it real or not?"

Petunia's mouth curled upward into a triumphant grin. "Yes, it's real."

Harry smiled as Lily and Ron let out a sigh of relief. "You're sure? I mean, I don't doubt your investigative techniques or their accuracy, I just…you know…'

"I know what you mean,' she smiled, nodding in understanding, 'and I worried the same thing myself several times. That's why I performed the spell over and over until I was satisfied that I wasn't getting a wrong reading. It's the Horcrux, Harry, just as we suspected."

"We got lucky.' Said Ron, stroking his moustache.

"We certainly did.' Nodded Hermione in agreement.

"Where did you get that spell from?' asked Lily, frowning at her. 'The one to check? I didn't even know there _was_ a spell to check! And I can't imagine something like that being in Standard book of Spells, Chapter one."

Hermione shook her head. "No, it wasn't. And I wasn't confident I'd find one at all. But Slughorn was very eager to help, the gem of a man he is."

Harry's eyes widened. "You went to _Slughorn _with this?"

"Don't look so horrified.' Laughed Hermione, getting to her feet. 'Slughorn knew all about the Horcruxes anyway, didn't he? Seemed only natural he might know about a spell to identify them."

"And he just gave you the spell?' asked Ron. 'Just like that?"

"No, of course not.' Said Hermione. 'He recommended a book to me that had the certain incantation in it. But the book is High Level, restricted, and only a person of certain authority can obtain it. So, being the Defense against the Dark Arts Professor he is I asked Bill to get it for me yesterday after work. He didn't ask any questions like I knew he wouldn't, so no, Harry, our secret is not out."

Harry, Ron and Lily just looked at her in awe, still amazed that she always seemed to be able to be four steps ahead of them.

She smiled and slung the bag with the video camera across her chest. "Now, if you'll all excuse me I'm going to go home and study his film…and try to convince my mother that it really _is_ me and not some strange woman in her forties off the street.' She added with a laugh. She pulled her wand out of her purse and with a CRACK, she was gone.

Ron yawned loudly, his gruff voice echoing off the walls as he stretched toward the ceiling. "Well, I think I'll go spend the last moments of Polyjuice-ness in bed. Walking around with all this weight has totally worn me out! I don't know how your Uncle does it, Harry.

"Neither do elephants.' Grinned Harry.

Ron laughed, heaved himself to his feet and plodded slowly from the room.

The minutes ticked by and Lily and Harry just looked at once another in silence. It was at times like this, moments that weren't really anything significant, that he found himself in shock that she was actually with him. That she was actually _there_, flesh and blood, living and breathing and being with him. Being his mother. Being the part of him that for years he thought he would never be able to fill. Sometimes he'd look at her in disbelief and see her as a stranger, someone he didn't know, but then he would blink and the moment would pass and everything would come back into focus once more. He often suspected she knew he was staring at her in that senseless wonder, but she never seemed to mind. It was odd that he could feel such comfort around someone. Feel such complete trust.

His skin began to crawl and bubble and Harry knew it was time. Without saying a word, Lily reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a pair of black, round-framed glasses. Harry grunted in discomfort as his hair grew and turned black, his whole body morphed and molded and his eyes lost their clarity and began to fuzz out the world once more until finally he was Harry again, messy hair and emerald eyes and knobby knees and all. Harry looked up at Lily and squinted, adjusting the large shirt on his shoulders. Wordlessly, Lily handed him his glasses. He took them clumsily, unfolded the frame and slipped them onto his nose, bringing the word back into focus.

Lily smiled, sat back in her seat and folded her arms over her chest. "There you are."

Harry grinned.

--------------------------

Ron knocked on the wooden front door of Hermione's house and waited. It wasn't long before there was the clicking of a lock being opened before the door swung inward, revealing Mrs. Granger to him.

Out of both parents, Ron had always thought Hermione resembled her mother the most. The same bushy hair, the same physique, the same nose, the same jaw, the same freckles across the nose… Mrs. Granger was what Ron guessed Hermione would look like when she was older, and Hermione was what Mrs. Granger would have been like when she was younger. The only real definitive difference between mother and daughter was that Mrs. Granger wasn't as studious as Hermione. Not that she wasn't brilliant in her own right, because she was. Ron had seen her in action with those muggle crosswords.

Mrs. Granger leant against the door, giving Ron a very critical look. "Are you really Ronald Weasley? Because I already had a tall blonde woman appear in my living room not ten minutes ago claiming to be my eighteen year old daughter."

Ron smiled. "Down to the last freckle."

Mrs. Granger quirked an eyebrow in that way Hermione did when she suspected Ron of fibbing, but she stepped aside to allow him entry. "You may enter…just wipe your shoes. She's in the living room."

"Thanks, Mrs. Granger."

Ron wiped his shoes on the coarse mat with 'welcome' printed across it and gingerly crossed the threshold. He always had the tendency to enter Hermione's house with a hint of anxiety on his shoulders. Perhaps it was because everything about it was just so…_Muggle_. Not that he had any problem with that, but because every time he touched something in her house it had a tendency to go haywire. Like that time he'd turned on the garbage disposal and almost lost two fingers. That was certainly the last time he'd ever push any sort of button or flip any sort of switch in Hermione's kitchen ever again.

He walked through to the living room and found her sitting on the sofa in front of the television, her hair falling around her face as she sat hunched over a notepad resting on her knees, scribbling on it furiously with a pen. She looked up at the television where the video she had recorded of the Pensieve was playing, showing the stone basin from every possible angle.

Ron came up behind the sofa quietly and looked over her shoulder at the notepad. "Are you writing notes or a novel?"

Hermione looked up around at him in mild surprise. "Ron? What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd pop on over. You said I could visit anytime, didn't you?'

"Oh, yes of course I did,' said Hermione shifting over so he could sit down beside her, 'I just thought you'd be with Harry."

Ron shrugged and sat back into the couch. "Well, I figured you might like the company. You just left in such a rush we didn't get to do our usual calm down, 'we survived another ordeal' ritual."

Hermione smiled and looked back at the television. "Well, _you_ can. _I_ haven't finished yet."

"I can see that. And I'm sorry; you know…I know how you like to be alone when you're studying like this…'

"Oh, not, its fine.' She said, rubbing her chin.

Ron smiled. "Besides, Harry and Mrs. Potter looked like they needed a bit of 'Potter time' and I didn't want to intrude on that."

Hermione nodded and paused the video. 'Fair enough. I'm just about finished anyway."

"What have you got?' he asked, leaning against her to look at her notes.

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears and sat back, allowing him room to see. Every inch of the yellow, lined paper had been written and scribbled on. There were flow charts, copies of the runes from the Pensieve, spells and other words that seemed almost too small and too hurried for him to read properly. Ron blew air out through his lips and looked at her.

"Do you even know what 'half-assed' _means_?"

"This is something that leaves no room for 'half-assed' examinations or implementations.' Said Hermione, blushing at the close proximity they were sitting. She cleared her throat and looked away, pressing the play button on the remote again to resume the video. 'This needs to be _right_. It needs to be _exact_. Even the slightest mistake could blow our veil of secrecy. I have to know what we're looking at down to the slightest chip in the stone to be able to replicate it convincingly."

Ron stared at her long after she'd looked away. He'd been so close to her, his nose inches from hers, and he felt that knotting in his stomach clench again. There was an emotion he was feeling at the moment for her. What was it? Was it pride? Guilt? Awe? She took on so much responsibility for the three of them; she always had. Since they were eleven years old and trying to figure out who Nicholas Flamel was, right up to when they were trying to figure out all the strange happenings of the year just passed. She took everything investigative and theoretical upon herself. She never complained about it, even though Ron had a very strong suspicion it seemed to tire her a lot.

Hermione, sensing eyes on her, looked away from the television to find Ron staring at her. She raised her eyebrows and smiled. "What are you doing?"

Ron blinked. "Oh, er…I was just…that is…' he stuttered, feeling his ears begin to burn. 'I was just…thinking…how much better it is to see _your_ face and not the horse-face of Harry's Aunt, is all."

"Is that your idea of a compliment?' laughed Hermione.

"Well, your face is much better.' Muttered Ron, his face heating up. God, why had he even opened his mouth?

Hermione pursed her lips, trying not to laugh at him when he was obviously so embarrassed. "Well, if it counts for anything…your face is much better than Vernon's face."

Ron smiled. "A Rhinoceros's backside is better than Vernon's face.

"Oh, now, Ron…"

"I know, I know… 'Don't be so rude'." He muttered, giving her a lopsided grin. 'Although, I have to admit I am going to miss that moustache."

Hermione spluttered. "You're _what_?"

"Oh yeah, I kind of liked it!' he said, stroking his top lip wistfully.

"Ron, go to bed. You've obviously had a very busy day of crazy."

'No, I'm serious! I'm thinking of growing one for real. You know, to sort of give off that rugged manly impression. What do you think?" he said, tilting his head upward in a dignified soft of mocking way.

Hermione smiled at him. "No."

Ron's smile fell. "No?"

"No."

"Geez, Hermione, don't hold back. Tell me what you _really_ think.' He said, unable to hide is disappointment.

Hermione sighed. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just that in my opinion, moustaches are for _men_. Not that I don't think your mature enough for one, so please don't look at me like that, its just that your _face_ isn't mature enough for it. You've still got that boyish, curved expression to your face.' Without thinking, Hermione reached out and ran her finger down his jaw to explain what she meant. 'It's not fully sharpened yet. Not angular enough. That's something you'll get with age. See? Just along here…"

Ron blinked, trying not to flinch. He knew he was bright red, but Hermione didn't seem to realize what it was she was doing. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, I don't think so. I like you this way.' She said, giving him a look. 'Besides, I'm still trying to get used to you _shaving_, let alone you actually attempting to grow something."

"So…er…' he stuttered, trying to resist taking her hand. 'I should hold off on the moustache idea then, you think."

Hermione took her hand back and smiled at him. "Just for now. Unless you have a particular liking of milk moustaches, in which case do carry on."

Ron let out a laugh as she went back to the video, remote control in her left hand and pen in her right. He rubbed his jaw where she had stroked him in a daze, wondering what the hell had just happened.

He cleared his throat and shifted position, so his shoulder was resting up against hers. "Can I help with anything? I feel bad just sitting here."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "No you don't."

"No, I don't. But I'll help anyway if you want help."

Hermione considered him for a moment, before holding out the remote control for him to take. "Here. You can use the muggle magic wand."

"Oh, er… are you sure?' he said, taking the remote hesitantly. 'The last time I did something like this I nearly set the kitchen on fire."

"Well, that's what you get for trying to light the oven with your wand. Trust me, the worst thing you could do with this is press eject instead of pause. Now here, when I say so you press this button here…the one labeled 'pause'…'

"This one?"

"No, that's the play button."

"Oh, right…_pause_…I got you."

Ron lifted up the remote and pointed it right at the television, ready for her command. Hermione cleared her throat in an attempt to cover up her laughter and went back to her notes. She wrote in silence for a while, her eyes darting back and forth between the video and her notes before she said anything.

"You know, I still can't believe you and Harry convinced the Prime Minister of _England_ to help _us_." She said with a laugh.

Ron smiled and shrugged. "Wasn't really all that hard. Harry did most of the talking, and you know how persuasive Harry can be once he gets going. Sometimes I think he could convince Malfoy to dress up in a pink tutu if he really wanted to."

"And with that disturbing mental image firmly embedded into my brain, do continue.' Said Hermione, copying down another rune.

"Well, the Minister seemed a little hesitant at first. Harry had to explain the deal with the Order to him and why Scrimgeour didn't know about it, and he had to go over what he wanted from the museum…"

"Did he tell him why he wanted it?"

"No, just said it was important."

"And we're sure we can trust him with this?"

"As sure as we can be about anyone anymore."

"Yes. That's true. But, then again he _has_ direct contact with the Minister for Magic, and if he spills the beans on us then…pause."

Ron blinked. "Pause?"

Hermione pointed at the television. "Pause!"

"Oh, right!' said Ron, quickly looking at the black remote in his hand. 'Okay…pause…here we go!' He pushed the button and the frame froze.

Hermione smiled and patted his hand. "See? And nothing blew up!"

Ron laughed nervously. "Not yet it hasn't."

Hermione shook her head and examined the television. "I hope you have more confidence when we go back to the Museum for the Pensieve."

"Can I be the woman this time?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

* * *

A/N – okay, I had to end it there otherwise this would have been ridiculously long. Take this as part one of two. I'll have the next part out as soon as possible!

Please review!


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28! Get comfortable…this one will be long!

* * *

Harry blew air out through his lips as he looked out the window to the backyard of his neighbour's house. A gentle sheet of rain was beginning to fall from the grey, murky sky, reflecting the emotions he was currently running through. He was beyond nervous. He hadn't felt this sort of apprehension since the few moments before walking out to retrieve a golden egg off a Dragon, or in the moment when he asked Cho Chang to the Yule Ball, or since watching over a dozen people file into the Room of Requirement, ready to listen to everything he had to say. It was the time spent waiting that sent his stomach and mind into a sickening spin. He knew everything would be alright once he got going…one he was there…but the waiting was the hard part. It always had been. He'd never really been an overly patient person.

The rain began to intensify, splattering against the glass window panes with soft taps. Harry leant his hands on the windowsill and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. Harry closed his eyes and sighed in relief as the burning in his scar was soothed. It had been prickling with a taunting heat all morning, and it was this that had put him on edge more than anything else.

He didn't understand this overwhelming sense of apprehension. His desire to have all this over and done with should have been enough motivation to push past this hesitance. He hadn't felt this way when he'd gone after the locket. He'd been so eager to get it in his hands. So eager that almost nothing else had mattered or even existed. His desire to claim it and destroy it had been so intense it had almost consumed him for a moment. He hadn't cared about consequences or what would happen afterward like he was this time. Maybe because he wasn't alone this time. There were other people's safeties on the line as well as his. Maybe he felt an overwhelming responsibility for them all, just like he always did before they ever went off together to do something illegal. Or maybe it was the fact that what they were doing wasn't just dangerous because if they were caught they would go to jail, but if they were caught they'd also be exposed to the entire wizard world for trying to break into a Muggle museum and, therefore, Voldemort would know exactly what they were doing. He would know that Harry knew about the Horcruxes, and he would try to take them all back and hide them in a place where they would never find them. There was so much at stake, and if they made the slightest mistake or slipped up just once…if they failed or got caught…

The floorboards behind him creaked and he looked around in alarm. But he didn't find Voldemort standing there, just his mother. She gave him a little smile and folded her arms over her chest. "Hey."

Harry turned back around, pressed his scar back up against the windowpane and closed his eyes. "Hey."

Lily approached him cautiously. The slump in his shoulders was indication enough that he was not in the mood for playful banter or mushy affection. "How are you feeling?"

"Like crap on toast.' He muttered. He exhaled slowly through his nose, fogging the window up. 'I feel like I'm about to projectile vomit all the way back to Wednesday's breakfast."

"You're just nervous, it's expected. I'd be worried if you weren't."

"I can't be nervous,' he said, a sad smile crossing across his features, 'I'm the Boy Who Lived, remember?"

Lily didn't reply, just let him brood. It seemed the only way to break him out of his depressed cycle was to let it run its proper course. Nothing ever seemed to be able to cut him off. He seemed more alert when after he was done anyway, like he had come to his own conclusions in his own time and was proud of that fact. It ached that she couldn't comfort him, but she'd leant to deal with it. Still after all this time he never seemed to want anyone to help him through his moods. Maybe it was because all his life he'd always had to deal with things himself. He'd never had anyone to support him and still felt funny about it now that he did. But even now she knew she couldn't change it. Couldn't change _him_. It was just the way he was, and she accepted that. She didn't like it, but she accepted it.

Harry opened his eyes and looked out the window again through the fog his breath had created. "I had a dream last night."

Lily looked around at him. "A dream? About Voldemort?"

Harry nodded and pressed his scar into the glass a little more. "Not a vision dream, just a normal dream. I dreamt that he and I were standing in a circle of tombstones, one for each of you. Hermione, Ron, you, Ginny, Remus…and all he did was laugh. He laughed, because when I looked down I had blood on my hands. I had all of your blood on my hands, dripping from my fingers…' he trailed off and closed his eyes again. 'What if that really happens? What if it happens today? I don't want you all to… not because of me…"

"Nothing is going to happen to us, Harry; and _certainly_ not because of you.' Said Lily firmly. 'We've been over it hundred of times. We're going to be fine."

"How can you know that?' said Harry, whirling around to look at her. 'If we muck up _once_ today…if Voldemort find out…'

"If Voldemort finds out we're officially up the river in a boat of shit.' Said Lily, raising her eyebrows. 'Is that what you want me to tell you? We're bound to make at least one mistake today, its completely unavoidable. If everything went smoothly I'd be worried. Things like this never go without some sort of glitch in the movies."

Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "I just want to get in and out as soon as possible."

Lily nodded. "We all get that vibe. Just try to relax. I know it's difficult, but please give it a go.' She crossed over to him and rubbed his arms comfortingly. 'It was just a dream."

"So was the Department of Mysteries.' He said, giving her a look.

Lily pursed her lips. "We're all downstairs. Come down when you're ready."

Harry watched her go in silence, having no desire to follow just yet. To her it was just a dream, but to him it had been a real as his waking hours. He had felt the sticky blood running off his fingers, dripping onto the grass at his feet. He'd heard Voldemort's high-pitched laughter, taunting and torturous. When the rain had begun to fall it had not washed away the blood, or swept away his tears, or drowned his cries of pain. He'd sunk to the grass alone, his family around him but not with him. It had been a pain worse than that of the Cruciatus Curse. The dream may not have been real, the graveyard and the blood and the grass and the rain and Voldemort, they may not have been real…but the pain had been.

Feeling a sudden swooping feeling hit his stomach, Harry yawned and headed out of the room. Now that he was working through his anxiety instead of simply dwelling in it, that spark of passionate determination was being fanned into a flame, and he remembered why he was risking everything again.

He made his way down to the kitchen to find everyone there waiting for him. Hermione, Ron, Tonks, Remus and Lily, all of them seated around the table talking amongst themselves. The vibe in the room was heavy, nervous and still, and Harry knew that each of them were as nervous as he was.

Harry sat himself down next to Ron and rested his head forward onto the table, the cool wood soothing his scar.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him. "You alright?"

"Peachy.' Grumbled Harry, feeling bile rise up in his throat.

"You want some tea?"

Harry looked up at her dopily. "Tea? We're about to rob a national museum and the best you can offer me is _tea_?"

Hermione shrugged. "Tea solves all problems."

Harry pressed his scar into the table again with a groan.

Ron rubbed his back. "There there, our fearless leader doesn't need anything more in his bladder for him to add to the wet spot in his pants he's already created."

"Sod off, Ron." Grumbled Harry, not bothering to lift his head.

Hermione cleared her throat, throwing Ron a look.

"Hermione, I have a query about these plans you gave me…' said Tonks suddenly, leaning over the table to show the large sheet of blueprints she had been examining. 'See the generator here? If I cut the power this generator is going to cut in straight away, giving you only a few seconds rather than a few minutes."

"Then you'll have to cut the generator as well.' Said Remus, tapping the blueprints with a finger. 'There's no way they can be in the middle of stealing the Pensieve only to have the security cameras and alarms come back on. That would just blow everything."

Tonks nodded and went silent, shutting herself away in her thoughts as she went over a different set of blueprints.

Harry lifted his head slowly. Eerily, everyone went silent and looked at him, as if he were a General about to give orders. Harry rubbed his shoulder blade and sniffed, sat back in his seat, took his glasses off, tossed them onto the table and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Remus shuffled his robes and sat up a little straighter. "Yes, well…let's go over this one more time, shall we? Tonks, explain what you'll be doing."

Tonks smiled and rolled up the blueprints. "Well, thanks to these plans Hermione swiped for me…"

"I did not _swipe_ them,' said Hermione, 'I _borrowed_ them."

"From where?' asked Ron.

"The Library."

"Of course.' He grinned. 'Stupid question, really."

"Anyway, thanks to these plans Hermione got me, be it legally or not,' said Tonks, giving Hermione a grin, 'I'm going to use them to get into the electrical power stations for the Museum and cut the power at exactly one forty."

"Don't cut the power to the Museum.' Said Harry flatly.

Everyone went quiet and looked at him as if he'd gone mad.

"Harry, if we don't cut the power then all the electrical security will still be effective.' Said Remus. 'The alarms will go off and even if you _do_ disillusion yourself there will still be security guards crawling all over the place."

"Yeah, I know that.' Said Harry, putting his glasses back on. 'What I meant was that we shouldn't cut the power to just the Museum. It's too suspicious. They're going to have an inventory…a head count…a check of every single artifact in that building. And then the press will get an ear of a supposed robbery, and they'll print it in the papers. And once it's leaked that way anyone's going to be able to read it. _Voldemort's_ going to be able to read it. He's not an idiot. He'll work it all out. He'll know. And then its game over for everything else.' He ruffled his hair and looked at Tonks. 'You're going to have to cut the power to the entire city."

"But _Harry_…' started Hermione, horrified.

But Tonks cut her off with a wave of her hand. "No, that makes sense, Hermione.' She said, looking directly at Harry. 'Yeah, I can do that. But Remus…you'll have to stay behind and cut the Museum's back-up Generator off. If I cut the power to the city and that generator kicks in…"

Remus nodded. "I'll take care of it, don't worry. Harry, may I borrow your cloak for this?"

Harry nodded with a wry smile. "Sure. I'll get it for you before we leave."

"Right, well, that takes care of the risk of being caught on camera.' Said Lily. 'If anything goes wrong with that I can buy you time with the body I'm Polyjuicing into. Although I feel bad about stunning the man I'm taking the place of." She added with a smile.

"Just remember to Memory Charm him.' Said Remus.

"Ron, did you go see Fred and George?" asked Hermione.

Ron smiled, reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny little black sachet with a golden drawstring. "Instant Darkness Powder at your service."

Lily arched her eyebrows. "What's that for?"

"Just incase we need a quick cover.' Said Hermione. 'Its one of Fred and George's inventions. And considering it worked so well for Malfoy last year I figured I'd jump on the bandwagon."

"Just don't jump on the bandwagon labeled 'Rotten filthy murderers'." Said Harry.

Tonks shifted in her seat, but didn't comment.

Lily shook her head and laughed. "How do you kids come up with this stuff?"

"_We_ didn't think of inventing it!' said Ron. 'I hope this stuff is worth it. The scummy prats were going to make me pay for it!"

"You didn't tell them what we needed it for, did you?' said Hermione, looking alarmed.

Ron sighed. "Yes, Hermione, I told them everything."

"How did you get them to give it to you then?" asked Harry.

"I told them _you_ needed it.' Said Ron, giving Harry a smile. 'Apparently Savior of the Free World and financial backer takes preference to your own flesh and blood."

"Put that in your pocket.' Said Hermione, pointing at his lap. 'And make sure you guard it with your life!"

Ron pocketed the sachet again slowly, looking at Hermione blankly. "You want me to die for a pouch of powder?"

Hermione sighed. "No-one is going to _die_, Ron."

"That's the value you have of my life? My very existence? Dust from under a rug is more important than my smiling face every day?"

"Ron, shut up.' chuckled Harry.

"Hermione, did you do the replica?' asked Remus, trying to put them back on track.

Hermione nodded and rubbed her eyes. "I was up all night doing it. I wasn't going to go to bed until I got it absolutely perfect. It was pretty simple right up until I had to imprint the runes…that was the tricky part…'

"What did you use to transfigure?' asked Tonks.

"Some old crockery pot from the kitchen.' Shrugged Hermione.

"Are you sure you three are going to be alright with all this?' said Lily, looking at them all in concern. 'Something about it just doesn't seem right. Maybe Remus, Tonks and I should handle it…you three can swap our jobs…'

"Mum,' said Harry flatly, giving his mother a look, 'please. This is what we do."

"If I had it my way it certainly wouldn't be what you do.' She said, frowning.

"If you had it your way John Lennon would have never married Yoko Ono.' Said Harry.

Lily glared at him, the corner of her mouth twitching.

Ron blew air out through his lips. "So…we're really going to do this?"

"Not sitting on our backsides we aren't.' said Lily, getting to her feet. 'Hermione, go get the bowl. Ron, go with Harry and get James's cloak. Remus…do whatever the heck it is you do in a crisis situation to make it all less stressful…'

As everyone got to their feet and went their separate ways, Remus felt a hand wrap around his wrist and hold him back. He looked down at Tonks. "Dora? What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I just…I'm…' she trailed off and sighed, strands of her pink hair falling into her eyes and she looked down. 'I'm just worried is all. It's the same every time I go out on an assignment. I know I'm not the most coordinated woman in the world, and letting me loose in a power plant really wasn't the smartest idea man ever concocted."

"Well, do you want to swap with someone? I'm sure Lily would go instead…'

"No, it's alright.' Said Tonks, linking her fingers through Remus's. 'I know she wants to be where she can keep an eye on Harry. I don't want to ask her to swap. It doesn't seem right."

Remus looked at her as if trying to see right through her. "That's not all, is it?"

Tonks pursed her lips.

Remus nodded, understanding. "This is about Mister Malfoy, isn't it?' he said quietly.

"It's just…I haven't really left him on his own for this long.' She whispered. 'I don't think he's going to try and escape or anything, but…I'm worried.'

"You're _worried_?"

"Don't look at me like that, you know what I mean."

"Did you lock up the house like I suggested?"

"Yes, its Fort Knox times seven hundred.' Said Tonks, nodding. 'I went over it with a fine tooth wand. I'm just worried about anything and everything lately. And I'm worried about today and if we're going to succeed or end up in prison for the rest of our lives…"

"Hey, that is _not_ going to happen.' He said, giving her a stern look. 'We're going to be fine, do you hear me?"

Tonks smiled and nodded. She took his face in her hands and kissed him, saying how grateful she was in a way that words couldn't express. He smiled and her and stroked her pink hair.

"So, are you going to tell me why we're risking our necks?" asked Tonks.

Remus sighed. "You know I would if I could, it's just…complicated."

Tonks arched an eyebrow. "Complicated."

"Yes, complicated."

"Great,' she said, nodding, '_more_ secrets."

Remus frowned. "You're one to talk about keeping secrets, Miss I'll-keep-a-wanted-young-wizard-in-my-house."

Tonks's eyes narrowed. "That's not fair. I told you about that in the end."

"As will I tell you about all this when it's over.' He said softly. 'Again, Dora, its not that I don't _want_ to tell you, it's just…'

"Complicated.' She finished, nodding. 'I guess simplicity is a luxury Fate feels us unworthy of having."

"Apparently.' Smiled Remus.

The two of them leaned in for another kiss, but they pulled apart quickly as Harry and Ron came back into the room, the cloak hung over Harry's shoulder as he and Ron talked about Quidditch. Harry and Ron looked at Remus and Tonks suspiciously, but Remus just smiled and ruffled his hair, trying not to look at Tonks and trying even more not to blush.

"Sorry…are we interrupting?' said Harry.

"No, no, not at all.' Said Remus, taking the cloak of Harry.

Harry surveyed him critically, exchanging a look with Ron. The awkward pause stretched out longer and longer until Lily came back through from the kitchen, holding a glass of orange juice in one hand and her other hand clenched into a fist.

"Oh, good, you're here.' She said, walking straight past Remus and over to Harry. 'I got these hairs for you three to use. The Polyjuice I got from Moody is upstairs and there's enough for the four of us."

Ron blinked. "_Four_ of us?"

"Yes, certainly. I'm not very well letting you three be seen at the scene of a crime!' she laughed, holding out her hand. In her fist were three locks of hair, one blonde and two browns of different shades.

Remus came up behind her and looked over her shoulder at her hand. "Where did you get these from?"

"From work.' Said Lily.

"You work at a hair salon now too?' asked Tonks.

Lily laughed. "No, of course not. I got them from my boss and two of the other guys I work with."

Harry arched his eyebrows. "Nora just let you pull her hair out?'

"Well, no, I didn't pull them out. I asked her for them. I told her you needed hair for some science project you were doing at school.' Said Lily, giving Harry a smile. 'See, it's much more polite to ask instead of following people around under an Invisibility Cloak and yanking their hair out when you get a clear shot. I'll teach you manners yet, son."

"Come on, the Polyjuice is upstairs.' Said Tonks.

"Ha, look at us!' laughed Ron as they followed her out of the room. 'We made a plan. A _good_ plan!"

Harry smiled. "Just pray it doesn't all turn to shite."

"Excuse me, what was that French I just heard?"

"Sorry, Mum."

---------------------

The Prime Minister pulled back the sleeve of his bone, cashmere sweater to check the time on his watch. One thirty-two. They were late, and it was making him feel more on edge. He looked around the street through the haze of light rain, wondering how an entire nation of people could retain some sense of normalcy when he felt as if nothing in his life would ever be the same again. What he was about to do could not only loose him his job if it all went haywire, he could go to prison or worse. And what was he risking it for? A community in the midst of a war who didn't even understand the basic principal of punctuality. He must have been mad to agree to this. Must have been sitting in his stuffy office for a few too many hours…

"Minister?'

The Prime Minister jumped and whirled around to see a tall, medium built, brown haired young man standing there. His bright blue eyes looked down at him in complete recognition, but he couldn't recall having ever met this boy before. His light brown hair was wet and was sticking to his forehead and he looked as thought he were in a small amount of discomfort.

"Yes, young man, may I help you?"

"I sincerely hope so.' He muttered. He shoved his hands in his pockets and jerked his head in indication to follow. 'Come on, we'll be late."

"Hang on, wait a second!' called the Minister, running after him and pulling his arm to make him stop. 'Who are you?"

The boy smiled and leant in close. "It's me, sir. It's Harry."

The Minister's eyes widened as he looked at him again. This boy looked nothing like Harry Potter! Was this some sort of trick? Some sort of ploy by someone opposing? He certainly wasn't fool enough to follow some complete stranger.

"Oh really?' he said, straightening up with authority. 'You're Harry Potter then, eh?"

"That's right, Sir. I know you're probably very confused at the moment…'

"Prove to me you're who you are.' Said the Minister.

The brown haired boy sighed. "Sir, really…we're running late…'

"The real Harry Potter came into my office last week, talking to me about a special Order of some sorts.' Said the Minister, giving the boy a look. 'What did we discuss in that meeting?"

"The museum, our plans, your grandmother's baking and the footy scores.' Said the boy, deadpan. 'Ron also discussed what a git he thinks Scrimgeour is."

The Minister's eyes widened. He gave the boy a once over again in disbelief. "_Harry_? Is that really you under there?"

Harry smiled. "Yes, sir. This is the effects of a special potion we have called Polyjuice Potion. It allows us to take the physical form of another person. Any person."

"Anyone?"

"Anyone."

"By jove,' muttered the Minister, allowing Harry to start them across the street again, 'so you could impersonate me? Or even her Majesty? Or even _dead_ people?"

"Yeah…maybe not dead people…'

They crossed the road together casually, avoiding puddles as they went. No one gave the internationally recognized Prime Minster a second glance. He found this odd, but mused that they weren't accustomed to seeing him in such casual wear. Harry led the way right up the stairs to the front door, but didn't enter. Instead, he made his way over to a blonde woman in her late thirties and another young man, this one exceptionally good looking and well-built, his dark black hair falling into his blue eyes. They smiled as he and Harry approached.

"Did anyone see you?' asked the blonde woman.

Harry rolled his eyes. "So what if they did?"

"Don't roll your eyes at me, I'm just making sure.' She snapped. 'We don't want to attract any unwanted attention…"

"All attention is unwanted today,' said the other, good looking boy, 'regardless if it's wanted or not. Good to see you again too, Sir.'

The Prime Minister shook the young man's hand, looking at his smile. "Mr. Weasley? Is that you?"

Ron smiled. "How did you know?"

"A wild guess.' Said the Prime Minister with a smile. He looked at the woman and took her hand. 'And you must be the infamous Hermione I've heard so much about."

Hermione blushed to the roots of her blonde hair. "Yes, sir, I'm Hermione Granger, sir."

"One 'sir' would have done it,' whispered Ron with a grin.

Hermione glared up at him, but her blush did not dissipate.

"Oh belt up you two, will you?' snapped Harry impatiently. 'We're already running late as it is. Minister, do you remember what we discussed about this?"

"Yes, I do, but I don't understand why you chose _me_ for a distraction when I could just ask to see the artifact.' Said the Minister, looking at the three people around him in confusion. 'It would save you the risk of being caught stealing, and if it works out that way and you are caught and identified I'm afraid I wont be able to help you."

"We understand you position, sir.' Said Harry. 'And we're sorry to put you in it, but you were the only person we knew of who could get into the control room of this museum with a plausible cause. We needed that option open in case we couldn't get through the rest of our plan."

The Minster nodded. "You realize the risk you're taking, don't you? The three of you?"

The three of them looked at one another for a moment. Harry rubbed his forehead, wincing a little, and Hermione nodded. "It's more of a risk not to do it."

"You're never going to tell me what this is all about, are you?' said the Minister with a wry smile.

"Even if we did,' said Ron, holding the door open for them, 'you wouldn't remember it anyway."

The Minster opened his mouth to enquire what he meant by this, but before he got the chance to mutter even a single syllable they were making their way indoors. Once inside and out of the rain, Hermione and Ron seemed to close around Harry protectively, yet casually at the same time as if their formation were some sort of accident. The three of them gave the Minister one final look, a little wave of encouragement and walked off.

The Minister sighed and looked around nervously. This was more nerve-wracking than any press conference or public relations meeting he'd ever hosted.

"Okay,' he said, pulling himself together, 'come on you old berk…let's do this…'

-----------

Harry ran his hand along the glass case, wishing the prickling in his scar would just stop already. It was putting him more and more on edge as each moment passed. It was excruciating, having to wait. Having to stand there and look in at the Pensieve, and know that only a single pane of glass separated him from it. Stopped him from destroying it.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked around to see a blonde woman standing there. "Take it easy…' she whispered.

"_Take is easy_? Are you daft in the head?" he snapped irritably.

"Drooling all over the cabinet isn't exactly the subtle execution we were going for.' Retorted Hermione, giving him a glare.

Ron looked up from the bronze coins he had been looking at. "Who's being executed?"

Hermione sighed, praying to God for strength. "No-one is being executed, Ron."

"Hermione, you told me no-one was going to die today."

"No-one _is_ going to die today."

"You're having a very scary obsession with death lately, woman.' said Ron, giving the blonde woman a look of apprehension. 'Are we sure you're in the best frame of mind to be in charge?"

Hermione reached for her wand, but stopped herself at the last minute. She glared at the good-looking boy and clenched her fist. "If we weren't where we are…"

Ron pointed at her, looking at Harry with wide eyes. "Did you hear that? You're witness to her sadistic plans!"

Harry grabbed Hermione around the waist as she launched herself towards Ron. "Cut it out you two! Bloody hell, why did I even bring you? I don't know why I thought you two could go five bloody minutes without having any sort of argument!" he yelled angrily. 'This is not the time to be getting into petty fights!"

Hermione took slow, deep breaths as she looked at Harry as he held her around the waist from behind, her blonde hair wild with anger. Ron relaxed a little, as he had been tensed up with the possibility of being turned into a mushroom.

"Is there a problem here?'

The three of them whirled around to see the burley security guard they had seen the other day standing there, a suspicious expression on his face and a black baton ready in his hand. Harry instantly let Hermione go and took a step away from her.

"No, sir…no problem.' Muttered Ron, ruffling his hair. 'We were just, er…er…'

"I fell.' Said Hermione, stiff as a board. 'My friend caught me."

The security guard looked down his nose at them with narrowed eyes. "You'll want to be more careful in here, you know. No fooling around."

"We weren't _fooling_,' said Harry irritably, still stuck in a mood over the mixture of Hermione and Ron's inappropriate immaturity and the pain in his forehead, 'she _fell_. And you're lucky I caught her, otherwise there really _would_ have been something to sneer at us about."

Hermione groaned and very clearly wanted to hit Harry across the back of the head.

The guard frowned at Harry. "Do I need to escort you from the building, son?"

But Harry didn't get to answer as the lights suddenly went out.

Ron shuffled around toward the door and looked up at the security camera. It had stopped rotating, and the red light had gone out. He grinned and threw Hermione and Harry and small nod.

"Thanks, Tonks.' Muttered Harry under his breath.

The guard looked around in confusion. "Don't worry, it's alright…the generator will kick in any second now."

They waited with baited breath. They were in darkness for only a few more moments until the lights flickered on again and the rush of air condition kicked in. The trio looked at one another in alarm. Remus was meant to have taken care of the generator. Had something happened to him?

The guard smiled. "Ah, there we go. Nothing to worry about, folks."

"What happened?' whispered Harry harshly to Hermione.

Hermione shrugged and looked up at the camera. It was back on again. "I don't know…Remus was meant to cut it…"

Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out the sachet. He held it up and widened his eyes meaningfully. Hermione shook her head and waved her hand discreetly by her side, a gesture to say 'not yet, put it away'.

"One of us will have to do it.' Muttered Harry, heading toward the door.

"Harry, no, we can't…'

And the lights went out again.

"Oh, bollocks, what _now_?' grumbled the guard. He reached for his radio. 'Steven? What the hell is going on?"

"Powers gone out all over London, Pat.' answered scratchy voice.

"Yeah, so I noticed.' Said the guard, looking around. 'What's happened to the generator, then?"

"Don't know… Walter's off to look at it…'

Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way over to one of the glass cases. "Bloody lucky that, huh?' muttered Ron.

"Yeah, I just hope he's not in trouble.' Whispered Hermione, looking at the guard cautiously as he talked on his radio.

"Remus or the Minister?' asked Harry.

"Both. The two of them are in compromising positions."

"…right, got that, thanks Steve.' The guard came over to the trio and sighed. 'Sorry about this folks but I have to ask you to accompany me to the entrance hall. We're having problems with the generator and until we can get it up and running I can't leave you alone in here."

They exchanged a worried look. "Right now?' said Harry. 'We can make our way down ourselves…'

The guard cut Harry off with a regretful smile. "Sorry mate, but its protocol. Plus the Prime Minister is just upstairs, and we need to think about his safety too. So, if you'll all follow me…" He held a hand out, indication that they go first.

The trio didn't move.

The guard laughed and frowned. "Did you not hear what I just said? You three need to leave the premises. Now."

Ron stepped in front of Hermione, sizing up the guard. "We only need a few more minutes."

"Well, I'm sorry son, but you can't have a few more minutes.' Said the guard, clearly beginning to loose his temper. 'It's a matter of security. You all need to come with me, now, so I can escort you to…

"Hey!"

The four of them whirled around to see another security guard standing there, hitting his open hand with his baton threateningly as he glared at his look-alike. The first guard goggled at the mirror image of himself.

"What the bloody hell…'

As he reached for his radio, the second security guard reached into his pocket quick as a flash, pulled out a wand and waved it at him, sending him to the floor in a limp, unconscious heap.

The second guard turned him over with the toe of his boot. He winced as he looked down at himself apologetically. "Sorry."

"What took you so long?' said Harry irritably.

The guard blinked at him and scoffed in mock indignation. "Well _excuse_ _me_ if the process of transforming from a beautifully wonderful thirty six year old woman into a forty something almost bald man takes too long for you.'

"That's not what I meant.' Said Harry as one guard levitated the other with a wand and stuffed his counterpart in the corner of the room.

The guard bent down to take the nametag and other personal effects off his unconscious double when the radio crackled with static.

"Pat? Pat, you there?"

The guard fumbled for the radio from his double's pudgy waist. He gave the kids a look over his shoulder and gestured with a wave of his hand as if to say 'get on with it', before holding the mouth piece up to his lips. "Yeah, er… I'm still here."

"Good, hurry up and get down here, will you?"

"Right…sure…alright…"

Several things then happened at once. Harry watched in a daze as the Polyjuiced version of his mother got to her feet and headed to the doorway of the room. She didn't leave, just stood there to keep watch while Ron pulled his wand out from his pocket and Hermione reached into her backpack.

"Mum?' said Harry, coming over.

The bulky guard whirled around, took Harry by the arms and fixed him with a stare. "I have to go, but I want you to listen to me first."

"Er… alright."

"Don't worry about anything but this.' He said, gesturing to the class cabinet over Harry's shoulder. 'Nothing else matters today, do you understand? Don't worry about me or Remus or Tonks…just you focus on this and you three not getting caught, alright?"

Harry nodded. "If you want me to."

The guard smiled, and although this face was nothing like hers Harry could swear he saw her shining through. "Good boy. But now I have to go. I'm going to charm the hallway around the corner to try and give you a bit of elbow room, but just remember to use that powder if anything goes wrong."

Harry nodded. A brief moment of hesitation passed between them, before she took Harry's face in her large hands and kissed him on the cheek. Harry blinked in shock and rubbed his cheek in a daze as he watched her run off. "That was kind of weird!' he called.

She waved over her shoulder and turned the corner out of sight.

Harry sighed and turned back around to focus. He'd promised his mother that's what he was going to do, after all. Hermione was looking at the cabinet with narrowed eyes, pinching her chin thoughtfully with her thumb and forefinger. Ron was looking at the ceiling impatiently, hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels.

"What's the matter?' asked Harry. 'Why haven't you got it out yet?"

Ron sighed. "Hermione seems to think we need another _four hours_ to analyze the situation before we proceed."

"I just want to make sure I'm not overlooking anything, that's all.' Said Hermione.

"And I get that, but we really don't have time for this last minute hesitation you always seem to get before doing something major.' Said Harry. 'The power's going to be back on soon, and if we're not done by then…'

"I just want to make _sure_, Harry.' She repeated, giving him a look. 'This is _important_. We can't get it wrong."

"We can't go to jail for attempted robbery either!' said Harry. 'What else is there to analyze?"

"Pressure sensitivity. If it didn't go off with the power then when we take the Pensieve off…"

"_Reducto_!"

Hermione and Harry flung a protective arm over their eyes as the glass cabinet exploded in hundreds of shards of glass. Once the coast was clear they looked around to see Ron lowering his wand. He looked at them, amused by their looks of amazement.

"What?' he laughed. 'We can repair it later. They'll never even know it was broken. Muggles can be really daft sometimes, can't even see magic when it's plain as day in front of them…" he smiled, reaching out for the basin.

"No, Ron wait!' cried Hermione, but it was too late. Ron's hands gripped the stone basin and lifted it free of its display stand. No alarms went off, no security guards came running, no lights flashed…nothing.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. Although he knew nothing would happen, he'd still been nervous about it. Ron handed it to him gingerly. "Cheers mate."

"No problem.' He looked to Hermione with a smile. 'Got the replacement?"

Hermione stared at him in amazement for a minute, before shaking her head and laughing.

Ron frowned and looked at Harry, who shrugged. "What's so funny you loony?"

"Nothing,' she chuckled, crouching down and unzipping her backpack, 'absolutely nothing." She pulled out a dice-sized bowl from the coin purse in her bag and tapped it with her wand, restoring it to its proper size.

Really, Harry mused, even in these circumstances you had to admire Hermione's Transfiguring abilities. The replica she held in her hands was a dead ringer for the one in Harry's. She'd spent hours in her room, analyzing every chink of stone, every line of age, every crack and every smudge in order to get it right. She'd come out of her room looking completely exhausted after she'd finished, but the process had paid off.

She stepped over the broken glass and laid it gingerly back in place. "You really think its good enough? Because I think I could have spent a bit more time on it…"

"Yes, woman, its _fine_. Stop your fussing.' Said Ron, taking her hand and helping her as she stepped backward over the glass. 'I don't think Rowena Ravenclaw herself could have made a better copy."

"You're exaggerating." She said, blushing as she took her hand back.

"You're being modest." Said Ron.

"And you're both being disgustingly mushy.' Said Harry. He waved a wand at the broken glass and it flew back into place, forming a perfectly repaired case. The cabinet was as good as new and looked as if it hadn't even been bumped into, let alone smashed into smithereens. He surveyed the scene with heightened skepticism. 'Does something about this seem too…easy?"

"Were you expecting a Mission Impossible type scenario?' asked Hermione, zipping up her backpack.

Harry shrugged. "I just thought it would be a little harder than this.'

"Maybe it would have been if this were a magical situation.' Said Hermione, wiping the glass case of fingerprints with a handkerchief. 'This is a Muggle place, with Muggle technology and Muggle weaknesses. We have magic on our side. We have the ability to become invisible, and to transform into different people, and to cast charms to keep people away. That's our advantage."

"It's all going to be alright.' Said Ron, giving Harry a supportive nod. 'No-one's ever going to know we were even here."

Harry still felt uneasy. If it had all gone so smoothly, then where was the Prime Minister? Why did he need security? Why had no-one come down this part of the Museum? Why had Remus taken so long to cut the Generator? And why was his forehead still throbbing?

Attempting to put it all out of his mind, Harry looked out the window as the rain continued to fall, trying to focus all his attention on something simple. He then tapped the real Pensieve in his hands and shrunk it down to a miniscule size, pocketed it safely and put his wand away. 'Come on; let's get the hell out of here before this potion wears off."

"What about him?' said Ron, pointing at the unconscious guard in the corner.

"I'll sort him out.' Said Hermione. She brushed past Ron and crouched down beside the guard, pulling her wand out. She pulled the backpack off her back and held it out for Ron to take. 'I'll catch up with you in a minute."

"You sure you know what you're doing?' asked Harry hesitantly. 'You've never actually performed a Memory Charm before, after all."

"I can't imagine it being too difficult.' Said Hermione, surveying the guard carefully.

"But you've never used one before."

"I was reading about them this morning, and Remus was telling me about them last night. I understand it all.' She said, giving them a look over her shoulder. 'Go on, I'll be fine."

"Alright, but here…' said Ron, walking forward. He pulled the sachet of Instant Darkness Powder and handed it to her. 'Incase you get stuck."

Hermione smiled up at him. "Thank you."

Ron and Harry gave her one last look, before rushing out of the room. They were reluctant to leave her alone, but they knew she could take care of herself would she get into any trouble. She had the ability to apparate and now she also had the powder. She would be fine, granted the power didn't come back on and bust her doing magic.

Harry looked around as they slowed to a casual walk and headed around a corner. "Did the guard clear everyone out?"

"Must have.' Said Ron, observing. 'What was the spell your Mum was going to cast?"

"I don't know, I think it may have been a Muggle-Repelling Charm.' He said. 'See? Not even a single guard around. No investigators, no electricians…nobody."

They continued down another flight of stairs, the halls dark without florescent lighting and bare without the casual flow of visitors. It was eerie and felt wrong to be there, but they continued walking, not risking apparition incase the power came back on and security cameras caught them doing magic.

Ron looked over his shoulder as the turned another corner. "You think she's alright?"

"I think she's fine."

"What if something happens with that bloke?"

"He's knocked out. What's he going to do? Snore at her to death?"

"We should have waited."

"She can apparate out of she's in trouble."

"_We_ should apparate."

"Excuse me! You there!"

The boys halted and spun around. A security guard was walking toward them, thumbs hooked in his holster with an inquisitive look on his face. Ron and Harry stood up straight, trying to look innocent. Harry took a peek of his watch and felt alarm rise.

"We need to go.' He muttered urgently.

"How long?'

"Five minutes."

The guard stopped in front of them and frowned. "What are you two still doing up here? Didn't you get escorted out?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. "Escorted?" asked Ron, ruffling his dark hair.

"Yes, escorted. In case you didn't notice the power's gone out."

"Well, we were in the gents.' Said Harry quickly, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. 'We didn't know we had to leave. We saw the lights go out, but we just thought a bulb busted."

Ron nodded, trying to hide his amazement that Harry could come up with such a quick lie out of nowhere. "Yeah…what he said."

"We came out here looking for someone to ask what was going on.' Said Harry.

"Well, power's gone out all over London.' Said the Guard, giving them both a look. 'For your own safety I have to ask you both to leave the premises and…'

"It's alright, Connor, I got them."

The boys and the guard looked around to see Lily running up the corridor, still in her Polyjuice form. She stopped in front of Connor the Guard and clapped him on the back with a smile. "Its alright, I'll escort them out. You go look for more strays."

"Pat…I thought you were up with the Prime Minister.' Said Connor, looking even more confused.

Lily looked at Harry and Ron, who shrugged. "Oh, er…yeah! Yeah, I was…but they've got enough up there with him. Apparently he tripped over and fell onto the control board…sent all the security cameras haywire! They're sitting in the control room with him at the moment, keeping an eye on him, all the bells and whistles, you know."

In fact, Connor looked like he _didn't_ know.

Lily laughed and grabbed Ron and Harry by the arm. "Anyways, I'll be taking these two up to the entrance. Boys, are there any _more_ of you wandering around?" she said, giving them both a meaningful look.

"No.' said Harry quickly. 'No, no more."

Lily frowned.

"I'll go have a look anyway.' Said Connor, heading back up the way Ron and Harry had come. 'I'll send them down to you if I find any, Pat!"

"You have to stop him.' Muttered Harry to Lily as Connor jogged off. 'Hermione's still up there…she's performing a Memory Charm on the other guard…"

"I can't stop him without him getting suspicious or stunning him.' Said Lily. 'And even if I wanted to there isn't enough time. You two are about to change back as it is and I've only got a few minutes too. Come on, we need to get you outside the building."

"What about the Prime Minister?' asked Ron as they broke into a run.

"He's fine, I told him we'd meet him later…come on…"

They ran down a flight of stairs, not even stopping to talk to another four guards they passed. They bolted down the last flight of stairs, threw themselves outside and ran down the sidewalk. They ignored the rain, not caring that they were quickly becoming drenched as they weaved their way through dozens of people to get to a nearby crevice of two buildings. They squeezed in and only had a few moments to catch their breath before they were changing back. Ron's nose lengthened, his hair lightened and freckles broke out all over his face. Harry's hair lengthened, his features molded into place and he grew a few inches in height. Lily's entire body seemed to deflate as if she'd been punctured with a needle. Her hair lengthened and changed colour, her body molded itself a pair of hips and other womanly curves.

She shook herself and ran her hands over her hips with a satisfied sigh. "Ha, thank _God_ for that. You have no idea how hard it is to walk with a penis. Well, okay, maybe you do…"

"Please stop talking.' Said Harry, giving her a blurry look.

"Well _you_ Polyjuice into a girl and see how weird _you_ find it.' She said, pulling his glasses out of her now baggy pockets and handing them to him.

"Do you know what happened with Remus?' asked Harry, slipping his glasses back on. 'The power didn't stay out when Tonks cut the line."

"He's fine, don't worry. He was up with the Prime Minister and me in the control room.' Said Lily, transfiguring her clothes back to her jeans and t-shirt. 'He was under the Invisibility Cloak, making sure the Minister was alright so he was running late. Apparently the Minister asked to see how the Museum worked behind the scenes and, being that he is the Prime Minister of Brittan, they took him up there and showed him. Remus followed so he could time his sabotage. Apparently while they were up there he tripped the Minister up, hoping that he could cause an accident and set some of the cameras off. He did too, when the Minister put his hands out to steady himself he landed on the control panel, pressed dozens of buttons and all the tripwires and alarms switched off!"

"Remus actually tripped up the Prime Minister?' asked Harry.

Lily laughed. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. Anyway, after that he was able to apparate down to the Generator and switch it off properly. He and Tonks should be home as soon as Tonks repairs the cables she cut and _hold_ _it_!' she cried, putting a hand on Ron's chest to stop him. 'Where do you think you are going?"

"Back inside." He said, looking out into the street.

"Oh no you are not.' Said Lily, frowning at him.

Ron looked down at her. "I have to see if Hermione's alright."

"Going back into that museum now will ruin all the protective measures we took.' Said Lily, pushing him back as he made to move around her. 'If the power comes back on and Ronald Weasley is spotted walking into a museum that a Horcrux happens to be in…"

"I don't care,' said Ron, getting his wand out, 'our cover will be blown anyway if she's been caught."

"We shouldn't have left her there.' Said Harry, shaking his head. 'We should have stayed…worked something out…"

"Ron, please, just _wait_!' said Lily, putting two hands on Ron's shoulders to try and stop him. 'Baring in there like a pillock won't do you or Hermione or everything you just achieved any good at all! Hermione can take care of herself if she gets in a sticky situation. You both should know that."

"What if the situations too sticky?' said Ron, looking very worried. 'What if she's hurt, or can't use magic, or lost her wand, or…'

CRACK.

The three of them looked around to see Hermione suddenly standing there, slipping her wand back in her pocket and fiddling with her bushy brown hair. She looked up at them and smiled. "Oh, good, you _are_ here. No dramas?"

"Hermione!' cried Ron, rushing forward. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him in a hug.

Hermione blinked in surprise, but after a moments stunned surprise she hugged him back. Lily and Harry exchanged a smile and looked away.

"Were you worried about me?' smiled Hermione, patting Ron's back soothingly.

"What? No, of course not.' Laughed Ron, pulling back and holding her at arms length. 'Cool as cucumbers, weren't we, Harry?"

"North Pole cool.' Said Harry, nodding.

Hermione laughed, not missing the sarcasm in his voice.

"Are you alright?' asked Lily, looking at her with concern. 'You were in there a while. Did you run into any trouble?"

"Well, yes and no.' said Hermione. 'I was memory charming that guard when another guard came into the room."

"He caught you using magic?' asked Harry, alarmed. When Hermione nodded, he ran a harassed hand through his messy hair. 'What did you do? Did you run for it?"

"And risk him exposing me? Of course not.' Said Hermione. 'If I hadn't been in the process of changing back I probably would have just apparated out, but because he saw what I really looked like I had to deal with him too."

Ron's eyes widened. "_Deal_ with him?"

Hermione nodded. "I didn't want to, but I didn't have another choice. I stunned him and altered his memory as well. The second I revived the both of them I apparated out of there and appeared here."

"Wait, hang on…' said Lily, holding up a hand. 'You memory charmed _two_ muggles?"

"Yes, I did."

"And you've never preformed a memory charm in your life?"

"No, I haven't."

"And they were perfectly alright afterward?"

"Well, I didn't stay around long enough to find out, but I'm rather confident they are, yes."

Lily shook her head. "Hermione, you're completely unbelievable."

Hermione smiled and shrugged, trying not to look too pleased with herself. "How did it go with you two? No problems?"

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the tiny little Pensieve. He held it up and examined it, suddenly feeling a rush of adrenaline. This was it. They'd actually done it. They'd actually robbed a National Museum. He actually held in his hand a Horcrux, the fourth piece of the puzzle. It was his to keep, his to possess and his to destroy. Such power was hard to contain and control, but he kept it in check only just.

Perhaps sensing Harry's change in mood, Lily put a hand to the small of his back. "Let's get home, shall we? Remus and Tonks will be there already."

"What about the Prime Minister?' asked Hermione, getting her wand out.

"Kingsley will be here for him shortly.' Said Lily. 'He's going to escort him back to his office to make sure he gets back alright. We can go talk to him tonight, but right now I think it would be best for us to get out of here."

The three kids nodded, and as one the four of them disappeared from the alley in the blink of an eye.

----------------

Harry turned the basin in his hands in a clockwise direction, examining the faded blue runes along the side. They had an old, forgotten, aged beauty about them. They were cracked, and ancient, and smudged and he didn't have any clue of what they meant, but they were beautiful. He knew that much.

He stopped at a particular pattern of runes and ran his thumb over it. It was soft, worn from age. The basin itself wasn't all that heavy, considering what it was made of, but somehow when he thought of Horcruxes he expected them to weight so much more. He expected them to be ugly, distorted, black objects like Voldemort's soul would be, not simple pieces of jewelry, or books, or exquisite artifacts like the one he held in his hand.

A knock on the door jolted him from his reverie, and he looked around to see Ron standing in the open doorway. "Hey."

"Hey.' Said Ron, coming into Harry's room hesitantly. 'You right in here?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, because you've been up here since we got home an hour ago staring at that Pensive, that's why.' Said Ron, giving him a look.

Harry sighed and turned back around to the Pensieve. "Did Hermione send you up here to check on me?"

Ron frowned. "No, actually, she didn't. I know it's shocking, but I'm not Hermione's personal slave.' When Harry didn't bite, Ron shoved his hands in his pockets and moved to stand at Harry shoulder. He looked at the Pensieve curiously as Harry rotated it in his hands. 'What are you looking at it for? Destroy the bastard."

Harry winced. "I know I should…"

"Then do it already."

"How?"

"I don't know…drop it."

Harry looked at Ron. "_Drop it_?"

Ron shrugged. "Sure. It's just a stone bowl, right? It should break when you drop it. It'll crack the stone."

"Or the floorboards."

"Take it out to the courtyard then and use the ground."

"I don't think it would be that simple."

"Doesn't hurt to try."

Harry pursed his lips and looked back at the Pensive. He rotated it again, staring it at wonder. "Something about it just seems…wrong. This belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw for God's sake. And we just want to throw it down on the ground and smash it?' he said, frowning at it. 'But, I know that's probably why he picked it. So that people would have this feeling of reluctance. They'd want to try another way to get de-Horcrux it and try and preserve such a thing."

"Morality's a pain in the arse, aint it?' chuckled Ron.

"Bloody inconvenient sometimes if you ask my opinion." Smiled Harry. He held it tight with one hand and, with the forefinger of his right hand, ran it along the surface of the bottom of the bowl. 'Think there might be some lingering memory in there?"

Ron frowned. "After a thousand years? Can you say long-shot?"

"Not five times fast."

"Be cool if there _was_ something in there.' Said Ron, peering over Harry's shoulder. 'Imagine being able to see back into Ravenclaw's memory. We could see how the school was built."

"We could see the other Founders.' Said Harry, his eyes lighting up. 'We could find out what artifact Gryffindor had that Riddle may have wanted to use."

"We sound like Hermione.' Said Ron, looking alarmed. He nodded at the Penisve. 'Go on then, stick your head in it. I dare you!"

Harry laughed and looked at the Pensieve. Could there really be something in there? There was no swirling mist, no colour, nothing indicating that there was anything left. But what did it hurt to try? The worst he could do was hit his head on the stone and get a bump next to his scar. He hesitated, lifted the basin up toward his face and leant in gingerly.

Nothing.

Ron sighed. "Well, that answers _that_ question."

Harry gripped it tightly. "We need to destroy this. Now."

"Come on then, let's go outside and kick it around a little.' Said Ron, clapping Harry on the shoulder and gesturing toward the door.

"What if it doesn't work?'

"We do what we always do…panic then improvise.' Grinned Ron. 'If smashing the bleeding crap out of the bastard doesn't work, we can just give it to Remus and your Mum to sort out like they did last time."

Harry nodded and the two of them headed out the door. "You know, I still can't believe we actually robbed a museum and got away with it."

"I still can't believe your Mum said the word 'penis'."

"Please don't remind me."

* * *

A/N – okay, first of all let me say how agonizing it was to write this chapter! I'm still not completely happy with it, but if I added all the things I wanted to add to it it would have gone on a lot longer than this. Thank you all for your patience and I hope it wasn't a let-down. My plot bunny has eaten my muse, apparently.

Please review!


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29.

* * *

Harry groaned and rested his head on the massive volume on the table in front of him. "Is it bedtime yet?"

Across the table, Hermione peered over the top of the book propped up in front of her head, her eyebrows raised. "No it most certainly is not. Read."

"I have been reading for the past three hours. I'm _cross-eyed,_ Hermione.' Moaned Harry, closing his eyes. 'Even Shakespeare didn't read as much as you."

"You know, I think I've just worked out a way for you to defeat Voldemort.' Said Hermione, putting her book down to look at him excitedly.

Harry sat up instantly. "You have? _Really_! How?"

"Whinge to him." She said flatly, resuming her study.

"That's so funny.' He said irritably, flipping her the finger. He put his head back down on the open book and sighed. 'Right old regular Billy Connolly you are."

Tonight, like most nights for the past month, they found themselves once again in the dining room of Grimmauld Place, surrounded my mounds of books. It seemed that every time Hermione made a trip up to Hogwarts (which was seemingly often as of late) she would return with at least three new books. Harry didn't understand how Madam Pince was still properly functioning after loosing so many of her precious, hard cover darlings, nor did he understand how Hermione managed to get them out with her head still attached. Madam Pince's whole existence lie in that library, and half of it was now sitting in Harry's dining room. That woman needed a life. Stat.

The door banged open and Ron walked in with a dramatic sigh, levitating a large stack of books by his head. "Here's the next tonne your worship ordered.'

Hermione and Harry jumped as Ron dumped them on the table. "Ron, be _careful_! Those aren't ours, you know." Implored Hermione crossly.

"Oh they're _books_, Hermione, not China vases.' Said Ron, flopping down in the chair opposite Hermione. 'Not my fault you take so many of them."

"They're important.' Said Hermione.

"But there's just so _many_.' Groaned Ron, looking at the piles apprehensively.

"Have you ever thought about doing books on tape?' asked Harry.

Hermione looked over the top of her book again and smirked. "Now where's the fun in that?"

"Everywhere. There's fun all over it.' Said Ron.

"And what would the both of you rather be doing?' she laughed. 'Playing Quidditch? Stuffing yourselves with Chocolate Frogs?"

Ron and Harry exchanged a look and nodded.

"Yes.' Said Harry simply.

"Preferably both at the same time." Said Ron.

Hermione shook her head with a smile and went back to her book. "An excellent war strategy to be sure. Challenging the Death Eaters to a Quidditch game while at the same time inducing them into a Diabetic Coma."

Harry sighed and looked at Ron. "She knows us so _well_!"

"She reads us kind of like… a _book_.' Said Ron, looking at Harry with mock amazement. 'Fancy that!"

Hermione pointed at the books in front of them. "_Read_."

Ron and Harry sighed and did as they were told.

It was boring, monotonous work, but it was essential that they do it. With only two Horcruxes left, one of them still unknown, it was vital that they put in the hours to try and unlock the secrets. It was tedious, and if Harry had it his way he would be out there fighting with the Order instead of sitting at home reading, but it wasn't fair to leave all the theory to Hermione. It was exhausting, not just researching but being so careful about their plans. Their robbery of the museum just one month ago had thankfully stayed out of the public eye and avoided suspicion. The blackout Tonks had caused had been all over the news, as had the Prime Minister's visit to the Museum and his particular 'clumsy' moment, but other than that there had been nothing. No-one had been any the wiser about the switch. Apparently, Hermione's Memory Charms really had, funnily enough, worked their magic.

Harry looked away from his book, tired of reading the same sentence over and over, and gazed into the crackling fireplace. As the months dragged away from summer their days were becoming steadily colder, and a nice warm fire was always welcomed with great enthusiasm. The embers were glowing steadily. The bright red flames were licking the logs, dancing provocatively. The colour reminded Harry of long, fiery hair that he could run through his fingers like liquid fire, and he felt such a sudden uproar of longing that he flinched. He missed her like nothing else. He missed her smile and the sound of her laugh and the feel of her long fingers linked with his. With no attacks these past few weeks, he'd had nothing to distract him from his thoughts…and Ginny was always the main focus in his mind.

He knew he shouldn't allow himself to think of her so much. It was far too dangerous. If Voldemort decided to use Legilimency on him, he'd be able to tell in an instant what Harry's greatest weakness was. It was putting her in danger, and he knew that. He couldn't be selfish. He couldn't let his feelings dictate his decision.

So, with more strength than he thought he had, Harry dragged his eyes away from the crackling fireplace and back to his book.

Like all of their study session in the past seven years, the minutes dragged on agonizingly slow. And yet, they managed to force themselves to read; the knowledge of what they were working for much more motivating that simple test scores. It was another half an hour before any of them spoke. Ron slammed his text shut with a snap and tossed it halfway across the room. "Stupid useless bloody thing!"

Hermione looked scandalized. "What in heavens name was _that_ for?"

"An entire sodding book on Hogwarts and they don't have bollocks about Godric Gryffindor!' he cried, throwing his hands up in defeat.

"An entire…' she trailed off and leant over the table to look at the book on the floor. Her eyebrows shot up and she laughed. 'Is that '_Hogwarts: A History'_?"

Ron blushed. "Maybe."

Harry and Hermione just looked at him.

"It's a stupid bloody book anyway.' Grumbled Ron, looking at the book on the floor angrily. 'Doesn't tell you diddily-squat! I don't know how you've read it so many times, Hermione. I can't even read it once!"

"Shall I get it on tape for you?' she asked with a smirk.

Ron glared at her.

"Look, Hermione, I think the fact that Ron's throwing books and I'm going cross-eyed and you're actually making jokes is evidence enough that we've had enough for one day.' Said Harry, getting to his feet.

Hermione pursed her lips. "Oh…alright. But we're straight back into it tomorrow – if there's any books left with Ronald throwing them every which way. Not bad enough you could damage a book, but you could smash something valuable and important in here!"

Ron slammed another large book shut. "I'd rather smash a whole lot of important somethings than read one more sentence of this huge, evil books of yours. I don't even know how you lift it."

"I'd wager with her _hands_ myself…' said Harry, making lifting motions with his own hands."

"Shut up, wanker.' Laughed Ron, punching Harry playfully in the arm.

Harry laughed and shoved him back. "I'm going to go upstairs and change. I want these books gone off my table by the time I get back down here for supper."

"Aye, sir.' Said Hermione, saluting. 'Ron, do you want to stay at help me?"

Ron, who had been about to follow Harry out of the room, turned and looked back at Hermione. He looked at the mountains of books and screwed his face up in apprehension. "Are you kidding?"

Hermione leant her hands on the table and gave him a look. "Yes, it was a joke I made up.' she said sarcastically.

"But…I was gonna go with Harry…'

"Harry doesn't need you to help change him.' She said, stacking books. She paused and grinned at him. 'Unless there's something about your relationship you're not telling me."

Ron's ears went red. "Just stack."

And they did. In silence they packed up the books, the only sound coming from the deep thump of books piling together and the crackling of the fire. Hermione cast her eyes up, peering through the curtain of bushy hair at Ron as he stacked. She watched as he went about his tidying, totally unaware of her staring. She'd always liked watching his hands the most. For some unknown reason, his large, freckly hands were just very nice to admire.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, she straightened up. "So, Ron…"

Ron looked up from his books. "Hmm?"

"How's…how's Harry?"

"Harry? He's fine.' Said Ron, puzzled. 'You just saw that he was."

"No, that's not what I meant.' Said Hermione softly.

Ron straightened up, catching Hermione's drift. "Oh, uh…why don't _you_ ask him?"

"Because I know he'd clam up and run off in the other direction."

"And what makes you think _I_ know anything?"

"Well, you live with him. You're with him almost all the time.' Said Hermione simply. 'And you're his best friend."

"So are you."

"Not like you are."

Ron shoved his hands in his pockets. He wasn't being arrogant admitting to himself that Hermione was right, and that his relationship with Harry was different than Hermione's, but he still felt weird about admitting it out loud. So he just looked at her, knowing she knew what he was thinking. He didn't want to betray Harry, but it was _Hermione_, and out of everyone he always knew he could trust her the most.

"He's…' he paused, looking for the right word. He sighed and ran a hand through his thick red hair. 'He's tired. And I mean _really_ tired. Half the time he walks around like a Zombie. Actually, I think even Zombie's have more spring in their step than him."

"I was afraid of that.' Said Hermione, sitting back down. Her tone told Ron that he'd just confirmed suspicions she'd formed from her own observations. She rubbed her eyes, evidence that she was tired herself. 'When I came over before I almost gasped at how tired he looks. He's pale and thin…"

"He's been having nightmares a lot.' Said Ron softly. When Hermione looked up at him in alarm, he knew he had to elaborate. 'I hear him down the hall. He doesn't know, but I hear him. He's always groaning and crying out for people. I mean, I'm used to him muttering in his sleep…I've shared a dorm with him for six years…but it's never been like this."

Hermione put a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. "Ron…"

Ron sat down on the table, resting his elbow on a large stack of books. "I haven't said anything to him. I figured he'd tell me when he was ready – so don't you go sticking your nose into his business."

"I wasn't planning to!"

"That would be a first.' He said, scratching his head. He folded his arms over his chest and kicked the floor with the toe of his sneakers. 'I just…wish there was something we could do to help him."

Hermione nodded, sat back in her heat and hugged herself. "I know; I do too. But, I think just us being here helps."

"Doesn't seem like enough.' Said Ron solemnly.

Hermione looked up at him again, unnerved to see a hunch to his shoulders she wasn't accustomed to seeing. Ron had always been one of those people you seldom saw burdened. He was always smiling, or cracking jokes, or walking around with an air of awkward happiness about him. But, like most people, lately he didn't seem to smile as much. It was upsetting that they seemed to forget about the strain on everyone else. While it was important that they were there for Harry, Hermione personally found it rather irritating that people had forgotten about Ron. After all, Ron was just as important as Harry was…to her, anyway. He was like the petrol for Harry's emotional engine – Harry simply didn't go without Ron there to motivate him.

She frowned at Ron curiously. He was fidgeting, as if he wanted to bolt from the room. "And…how are _you_?"

Ron looked at her, startled. "_Me_? I'm fine!"

"Are you really?"

"Of course I am!' He laughed nervously, getting to his feet. He paced, looking anywhere but at her. 'I mean, what do _I_ have to worry about? I don't have the weight of the world on my shoulders."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "No, but your best friend does. That can be stressful enough…especially of he's sitting on yours."

Ron looked at her, his blue eyes blazing as if he were going to snap at her. But he said nothing, just continued to pace.

"I think we all need to just take a day and relax, you know?' she said. 'Just so we can recharge our batteries, think a bit clearer, deal with certain issues we have…"

"You mean like an evil psychopath?"

"I was thinking more of ex-girlfriends, but yes, that too."

"I think You-Know-Who would be an easier problem to solve than Harry's relationship… or lack there-of…with Ginny right now."

"I think you may be r-…where are you going?" asked Hermione as Ron made for the exit.

Ron stopped in his tracks. He'd been slowly edging his way toward the door, trying to get out of the room and upstairs. He looked at Hermione, his eyes wide. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. "I'm…er…I was just…"

Hermione just stood there, tapping her foot impatiently.

He sighed. "I was going to go upstairs for a minute."

"Why?"

"To, uh…to check on Harry."

"Harry does not need checking."

"Neither did that big wooden horse the Greek's delivered to the Trojans one sunny Tuesday morning." Said Ron, giving her a smile.

Hermione bit her lip as he made to leave the room again. "You're not outgrowing me as a friend, are you?' she blurted, mentally kicking herself the second the words were out.

Ron stopped dead and looked around at her in amazement. "Where the hell would you get an idea like _that_?"

"I don't know…maybe because you haven't spent more than five minutes in the same room as me for the past week and a half."

"That's not true."

"Oh really? Aside from today tell me the last time we had lunch together, or went out for a walk together or even just _talked_."

Ron just looked at her, astounded that a thought like that, so ludicrous, would _ever_ enter her head. Hermione wasn't normally one to be insecure, especially about her friendships and their stability. But the way she was looking at him now unnerved Ron. He hadn't expected her not to notice his recent avoidance of her, but he also hadn't expected her to think that he was growing away from her. Couldn't she tell why he was _really_ avoiding her? Didn't she know it was completely the opposite of what she was thinking?

He made his way back over to her, surprised at how small she suddenly seemed. "Hermione, its not…I'm…' he sighed, irritated at his seemingly absent ability to properly articulate and shoved his hands in his pockets. 'It's not like that."

"What _is_ it like then?"

"Oh, now, if I told you that it would put a dint it my fermenting adolescent walls of drama and secrecy I've spent the past four years building.' He grinned. When she still looked worried, he sighed and rubbed her arms. 'Hermione I could never outgrow you…other than vertically. You're un-growout-of-able."

Hermione laughed, his bumbling ability to talk easing her insecurity. "Its amazing how far that Weasley charm will get you."

Ron smiled and shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's worked well enough so far. Why mess with a good thing?"

Hermione smiled and was about to reach out to hug him when there was a loud cry from upstairs. Alarmed, both Ron and Hermione jumped apart and looked up at the ceiling. They exchanged a look of confusion as they listened, but there was silence broken only by the crackling of the fire.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the ceiling. "Harry?' she called in concern. 'Are you alright?"

Silence.

Ron frowned. "Harry? Talk to us, mate!"

Silence.

Ron looked at Hermione. "Think he's alright?"

"I think we should go upstairs and check on him just in case."

"What if he's halfway through getting undressed?"

"He wouldn't have cried out in pain if he was only getting undressed."

"If he got himself caught in the zipper he would have. Trust me…that bloody hurts…"

Both of them looked up at the ceiling again as there was another loud cry of pain, a moments pause and then a loud THUMP. Without needing to take a second to glance at one another to make sure they were thinking the same thing they bolted out of the room, dashed up the stairs, skidded across the floor almost tripping over one another and climbed the staircase two steps at a time to find Harry on his knees on the floor out the front of Ron's bedroom, bent over, clutching his forehead and crying out in pain.

Hermione and Ron were on their knees beside him instantly. Hermione put her hand on his back and flinched. He was as tense as marble.

"Harry? Harry, what is it?' she asked.

Harry clenched his jaw to muffle his screams. "He's…_argh_…I can't…it _hurts_…"

"It's alright, mate.' Said Ron, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. 'Take deep breaths…"

"I can see them.' Sobbed Harry, straightening up. His glasses had slid off his nose to the floor so his face was bare. His eyes were screwed shut and tears were leaking from under his eyelids. 'I see them…they're so scared…they're _terrified_…"

"Who's scared?' asked Hermione. 'Who can you see?"

"Muggles…' coughed Harry, pressing his hand against his forehead so hard the tips of his fingers were white. He threw his head back and cried out again through his teeth. 'He's with Muggles…in a house…I can't…I have to _help_…'

"Tell us _where_, Harry.' Said Ron. 'We can't help them unless we know where they are."

"I don't know where!' cried Harry, gasping for breath. 'Oh God…I don't _know_…'

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and looked at Ron hopelessly over Harry's head. Ron looked back at her, the expression in his face telling her he felt equally as useless as she did. It hurt that their friend was in pain and they could do nothing about it.

Harry shuddered and seemed to relax a little. He took deep, shuddering breaths, but still moaned in pain. "I see them…I _see_ them…"

"What do you see?' whispered Ron.

Harry screwed his face up. "He's in their house…he's laughing at them…there's one on the floor and he's…oh God, he's…he's _dead_! He's killed him! There are kids…kids in the corner…and a woman holding them…holding all three of them close…'

Hermione stroked his hair. "It's okay Harry…its okay…"

"No…no, it's _not_ okay…' he groaned through clenched teeth. He pressed his hands tighter against his forehead and cried out in pain. 'He knows I'm watching…he knows I can see everything through his eyes…he _knows_…'

"Push him out.' Said Ron, his tone insistent. 'Get the bastard out of your head!"

"He's not in mine…' whispered Harry, a sob escaping his lips. 'I'm in his."

"Harry, you can break the connection.' Said Hermione. She was just holding back tears.

Harry shook his head. "No…I can't…I have to see where they are…I have to help…"

"Harry, please…'

All of a sudden, Harry went still. His face relaxed in horror and he sobbed again, hunching right over so the back of his hands on his forehead was touching the floor.

Ron shook him. "Harry? _Harry_? Harry, _talk_ to us! What's happening?"

"He's got the girl.' Said Harry, his tone sharp and panicky. 'She's only about five or six…he's got her by the shoulder…and he's…oh God no…no…_NO_!"

Hermione and Ron jumped back as Harry threw his head back and screamed to the ceiling…and then it was over. Harry's eyes widened as he drew in short, harassed breaths. His cheeks were streaked with tears and his entire body was drenched with sweat. He leant forward on his shaky hands and took in deep gasps, his hair falling into his eyes.

"Harry?' asked Ron tentatively, picking up Harry's glasses. He held them out for his friend as Hermione rubbed his back. 'What happened?"

Harry didn't say anything. He shook his head, beads of sweat and tears falling to the floorboards and soaking into the grain.

Hermione exchanged a look with Ron, before bending down to Harry's level. "Harry? Are you alright?"

"He killed her.' Said Harry darkly. He sat up on his knees, took his glasses off Ron and got to his feet. He looked at his specks in his open hand and closed his fist tightly around them. 'He _killed_ her."

"Oh Harry, don't…' said Hermione, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. 'There was nothing you…"

"HE _KILLED_ HER!' roared Harry angrily. He cried out in rage and threw his glasses against the nearest wall with an almightily smash. 'The son of a bitch _KILLED_ her…an innocent little girl…and I couldn't even STOP HIM! God _DAMN_ him…that fucking _BASTARD_…"

Harry kicked the wall angrily, his raw magic flying all over the place, sending portraits to the floor and smashing things all around the house. Ron rushed forward and grabbed Harry by the arms, trying to still him.

"Harry, cool it!"

"Let _GO_ of me, Ron!"

"Not until you calm down!"

Hermione watched, distressed as Ron grabbed Harry from behind, wedges his arms up under Harry's armpits and held him in place, tight like a vice. Harry cried out in rage and tried to wriggle free, but Ron had him firm. He was sickeningly pale. His scar was red, like his eyes, and stood out alarmingly against his pale skin. Harry grit his teeth, his face contorted in fury and pain and frustration as he thrashed, trying to break free and lash out. But Ron had him tight and, after a few moments of fuming rage, Harry slowly began to calm down. His short ragged breathing slowed and he took long, deep breaths. His muscles relaxed and his face went slack and the sound of things smashing downstairs ceased. Ron watched him carefully as Harry finally seemed to be in a reasonable state, before letting him go.

Harry stood there shakily, his shoulders hunched. He looked as if the slightest breath of wind would knock him over. His lip shook and he covered his face with his hand.

"He killed her.' He whispered, unable to suppress a sob. 'God…she was only a _little girl_! He killed her right in front of her mother and brothers…she fell down beside her Dad…'

Hermione rushed forward and took his face in her hands. "Look at me and listen to me. It is _not_ your fault, Harry. It's not your fault."

"It _is_.' He sobbed, gripping her shoulders for support. 'I should have helped her…I should have been there…and all I could do was watch…'

"It's _Voldemort_, Harry.' Said Hermione. '_He's_ the one who's responsible. _He's_ the one who made you watch."

"He knew I could see it.' Choked Harry, looking away. 'He knew I was watching. He felt my pain and my frustration…and he _enjoyed_ it. He embraced it, as if my pain gave him power. As if my pain was the strength he needed to…to…'

Hermione slipped her arms around him and held him close. Harry didn't pull away like he normally would, but embraced her in return, his grip tight and needy. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, muttering about the girl and how it was his fault…about how he failed…

Ron picked up Harry's shattered glasses from the floor and repaired them with a tap of his wand. He slipped them in his pocket and patted Harry comfortingly on the back. "It's going to be alright, Mate. We promise."

Harry shook his head. "I'm the Chosen One. _I have to help_…"

"Shhh, relax. You're alright.' Soothed Hermione, stroking his hair. He was like a child awoken with a nightmare being consoled by his parents, but he didn't seem to mind at all. Hermione and Ron's eyes met over Harry's shoulder as Hermione gave him a kiss on the side of the head. 'You're with us now. You're going to be okay."

-----------------

Tonks flopped down onto the kitchen chair and rested her arms on the table, burying her face in the crook of her elbow. She was beyond exhausted, beyond drained and beyond horrified, and all she wanted to do was go to bed, curl up into a ball under the covers and cry.

And she probably would have, had a newspaper not been slammed on the table right near her head.

She looked up as Draco tapped the page brandished to her with one slim finger. "Slippery fish…three letters…"

Tonks shoved the paper violently off the table and to the floor.

"_Hey_!' cried Draco indignantly. He picked up the paper and smoothed it out. 'You shouldn't treat papers like that, you know. You could get a paper cut, and it would get infected, and you could loose a finger and then where would you be? You'd be Nyphadora 'freak with only nine fingers' Tonks."

"Bugger off.' Snapped Tonks, putting her forehead back down again.

Draco frowned at the top of her pink head. "Yes, indeed, I _do_ choose to be offended."

Tonks sighed and sat up so she could look at him irritably. "Draco, I'm tired and I'm depressed and the last thing I want right now is your harsh, inappropriate sarcasm."

"Inappropriate sarcasm is my only communication tool.' He said, sitting down.

"Well go communicate with someone else,' she said, rubbing her eyes, 'like the outdoor patio."

Draco sat back in his seat. "Does this blatant hostility have anything to do with today's attack on those Muggles?"

Tonks looked at him. "How did you know about that?"

"I read your letter.' Smirked Draco.

"That was confidential Auror business, Draco!' snapped Tonks. 'Not to mention a total and complete invasion of privacy! Jesus, have you absolutely _no_ morals?"

"I don't mind you reading _my_ mail."

"You don't _get_ mail!"

Draco smirked. "Hence my complacency."

Tonks cried out angrily and threw her hands up in the air again. "Remind me _why_ I keep you here. That's a _rhetorical_ question, Draco!" she added as he opened his mouth to comment. She ran her hands through her hair and began talking off her Auror effects; her wand holster, her talismans, her pen and parchment and other little devices she was required to carry on her person.

"So…what happened?' he asked excitedly, his eyes wide.

"What happened?' she asked, frowning. 'What _happened_?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, what happened? Was there a battle? Did anyone die?"

Tonks looked at him in disgust. "Is this just some big gossip opportunity for you, Draco?"

"Well, you have to admit…it is intriguing."

"_Intriguing_.' She repeated in disbelief. Even knowing the sort of person he was, the way he had been brought up and the way he had learnt to perceive things, there were still moments like this one where she couldn't believe how anyone could be so unbelievably cold. How he could be so tactless and unaware. She laughed without humor, shook her head and tossed her tools into her bag beside her seat. 'You want to know what happened? Okay…today, You-Know-Who and several Death Eaters including our favorite Aunt Bella killed nine muggles. _Nine_. Three of them were children, Draco, no older than seven. He killed _kids_. Defenseless kids, right in front of their families. He took their parents, brought them to their knees with the Cruciatus Curse and killed them as their kids watched. When we got there they were just leaving. When we got there they'd made their way through four houses, killing some while leaving others. When we got there, there were kids crying over their parents bodies…parents holding their limp children in their arms…people were hysterical…'

Draco swallowed back as Tonks trailed off. She looked out the window, her eyes shining. But she was dammed if he was going to cry in front of him. It hurt that such a horrible thing had happened to innocent people. It hurt that they hadn't got there in time. It hurt that Draco didn't seem to care.

She wiped her eyes and looked right at him. "Do you know why he did it?"

Draco shook his head.

"Because he _could_.' She spat. 'Because he knew he could do it and we couldn't do a damn bloody fucking thing about it. Because he thinks killing defenseless people makes a statement. That it makes him a big, scary wizard. But you know what it really makes him? It makes him _pathetic_, and it makes everyone else who follows him just as pathetic."

"We have our leader to follow just as you have yours.' Said Draco darkly.

Tonks shook her head at him in amazement. "I can't believe after everything that's happened to you that you _still_ count yourself as one of them! Your supposed 'All-mighty' Lord doesn't give a toss about you! He threatened you! He threatened you parents! And you're still going to stick up for him?"

Draco glared, but said nothing.

"He killed _children _today, Draco. Do you get what that means?' she implored. 'Magical or not that is _mortifying_. No-one deserves that, least of all little kids. He killed them not because they were a threat, or because it was self defense, or because they deserved it…but because he wanted to. Because he _enjoyed_ it, just as he enjoyed watching you almost destroy yourself last year.' She got to her feet and looked down at him, wishing he could be different – wishing he wasn't so hard. 'You ponder that thought while you're out the back talking to the patio."

And with that she left the room, leaving Draco to sit there alone with his thoughts.

* * *

A/N – A little angsty, but be prepared for that happening a lot in future. Sorry about the huge time leap too, but I had to speed it up. I know you understand.

Please review!


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30! Milestone!

* * *

It was now two and a half months into the school year, and Ginny couldn't deny it any longer – she hated being at Hogwarts.

It was just so _secluded_. She was away from everything that was happening, stuck in some sort of exile from the real world, and it didn't settle well with her at all. She felt useless at school, and to her education seemed so insignificant compared to everything that was happening. The only reason she had returned in the first place was to set her parents minds at ease, and at the start she had been fine with that decision, but now she regretted it with a fiery intensity. She wanted to be at home with her family. She wanted to be in the thick of the war, helping and saving the world like Ron was. Like _all_ her brothers were. It was just wasn't fair that they got the opportunity to fight while she was locked up at school, expected to be a good girl and jump through the hoops of the Ministry's educational system.

She'd considered leaving, of course. She'd considered just grabbing the broom that Ron had leant her for the Quidditch Team and flying home as fast as the broom would go. She'd considered sneaking out through the passage that lead to Honeydukes and getting the train from Hogsmeade station back to London. She'd even considered breaking a school rule so outrageous that McGonagall would have no choice but to expel her and thus send her home…but her friends had quickly discouraged her from being so dramatic.

Ginny adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder as she navigated her way through the halls of Hogwarts down to the Great Hall for lunch, weaving her way upstream through a river of passing students. She kept her eyes on the stone floor as he walked, not wanting to meet anyone's eye. Since day one of term she'd been the highlight of gossip throughout the school, and although it was irritating and annoying, deep down she found that she couldn't really blame their curiosity. Many people wondered what had happened between her and The Boy Who Lived over the summer. They wondered why she had returned to Hogwarts when he and his two best friends had not. They wondered, and they weren't subtle about their questions, and for the first time Ginny was finally beginning to understand what it felt like to be Harry.

She pursed her lips as she thought of Harry. She'd lost count of how many nights she'd lied awake in bed thinking of him, lost count of how many letters she'd started to write to him, only to screw up after writing only 'Dear Harry', lost count of how many times she'd walked into a room, only to have every pair of eyes look up at her in sympathy, as if she were the poor, heartbroken girlfriend left behind. It annoyed her, but she wasn't going to lock herself up in Gryffindor Tower because of it. Harry had lived with that sort of unwanted attention all his adolescent life, and so would she.

She looked up as she entered the Great Hall, not surprised to find it barely half full. The moral within the castle had been dismal this year. People hardly ever smiled anymore. They walked around like zombies, or were so on edge that they spent half the day walking around with their wands in their hands, ready. There was no more fun, no more pranks and no more happiness. The joy seemed to have been sucked right out of the castle. Younger students looked constantly terrified, walking around in small groups as if expecting to be attacked at any moment. Older students looked wary and tired, looking out for the younger ones and at the same time trying to support the teachers who looked just as exhausted. It was like the Chamber of Secrets all over again, and Ginny found all the depression very, well, depressing. _They_ were stressed? How did they think _Harry_ felt?

There were a few bright lights amongst Ginny's cloudy life however, and they were sitting at the Gryffindor table, talking and munching on sandwiches. She smiled and made her way over, feeling her mood lift as she approached.

Colin Creevy scoffed at the paper. "Can you believe this rubbish? Total utter bollocks."

Denis, his younger brother, scoffed in mock horror. "Did you hear that folks? My big brother just called his favorite paper in the whole entire world '_rubbish'_!"

"_Former_ favorite.' corrected Colin, reading over the front page with a scowl. 'They lost

all my respect when they started writing shite like this. Honestly, who _believes_ this stuff? Certainly not anyone who knows Harry well enough."

"Like you do?' grinned Demelza Robins teasingly.

Colin blushed as Denis laughed. "Am I ever going to live my first years at Hogwarts down?"

Denis sighed and bit into his slice of pear. "Sorry, but no."

Demelza laughed with Denis as Colin opened his mouth to retort, but they all shut up as Ginny sat down beside Denis with a tired sigh, shrugging her bag off her shoulder and onto the floor.

"Ginny!' said Colin in an overly happy tone. 'Hey, look, its _Ginny_! Hey, Ginny!"

"Yeah, we've established its Ginny.' Said Denis.

Ginny snorted at Colin's huge smile. "Drink caffeine much, Colin?"

"Sorry, I don't mean to…it's just…' he stuttered, trying to hide the paper under the table without her seeing the front page headline, 'I thought you were going to be up in Gryffindor Tower all lunch."

"What would give you that idea?' asked Ginny, taking a slice of sandwich off Denis's plate.

"I don't know, maybe when you said to me 'I won't be at lunch, I'll be up in Gryffindor Tower' in Charms just now.' Said Colin, arching a sandy eyebrow.

Ginny groaned and put her face in her hands, resting her elbows on the table. "I was going to, but I had cravings for pumpkin pasties like a pregnant woman wouldn't believe. Pass me one, would you Demelza? Ease my suffering…"

Colin frowned at her in concern as she ate her pasty idly.

"You alright, Ginny?' asked Demelza, apparently sharing Colin's concern.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm all left, actually.' Said Ginny, ruffling her hair. She looked at Colin and blinked as she saw a familiar pair of emerald green eyes behind glasses peering at her over the edge of the table. 'Is that the _Prophet_?"

"What? This?' stuttered Colin, shoving the paper down into his lap and out of view. 'No, it's…it's, er…"

"Have they written a story about Harry?' she asked, sitting up.

Colin laughed. "No! Of course they haven't! Why would they write something about Harry? He's old news… _so_ five minutes ago…"

Ginny smiled at him. "You know, you're not a very good liar, Colin.' Colin's smile faded and Ginny held her hand out. 'Give it to me."

"You sure you want to read it?' asked Denis, looking apprehensive. He knew as much as anyone with eyes at Hogwarts the ways of the infamous Weasley Temper.

"I'm a big girl; I think I can handle it.' Said Ginny, wriggling her fingers expectantly.

Colin didn't move. He looked at Demelza beside him, but she had no helpful advice and simply shrugged, a silent proclamation that it was to his discretion if he wanted to hand it to her willingly or end up with flying bogies all over his face.

Ginny arched her eyebrows. "Give it to me or I'll hex you."

Colin considered her threat for a moment to gauge its authenticity – the look in her eye was enough evidence that she was not kidding. He hesitated and after a long moment slowly surrendered the paper over to her.

"Here,' he sighed heavily, placing it in her hand, 'but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Thank you.' She smiled, flattening the scrunched up paper out on the table in front of her.

Harry was the first thing she noticed. It was the same picture that had been put in The Quibbler two years ago when he had done that interview with Rita Skeeter. He looked so much younger and a lot less burdened than he did now. He was smiling awkwardly up at her as he tried to edge out of the frame. His hair was tousled and untamable and she wanted to reach into the picture and stroke it. A smile played at the corner of her lips as she ran a finger along his jaw. He looked startled at first, but smiled up at her after a moment. She was so relieved to see him smiling again, smiling at _her_, that she hadn't yet noticed the headline. Ripping her eyes away from Harry's face, she pulled back her vision and frowned at the headline:

_WHERE WAS THE CHOSEN ONE?_

_In a horrific turn of events, four muggle families just outside of Kent were devastated late yesterday afternoon by attacks formed by You-know-who himself, accompanied by several unknown followers known as 'Death Eaters'. Aurors arrived on the scene in prompt form but found they were too late. Four Muggle children were murdered by The Killing Curse, as well as three Muggle adults. Investigations tell us that the parents had suffered severe trauma, indicating that they were subjected to the Criciatus Curse before meeting their terrible end. In light of such terrible attacks we have to ask ourselves one question… _

_Where was the Boy Who Lived? _

_Many wonder where Harry Potter was in all of this. Is he not the Chosen One? Is he not the one who will defeat The Dark Lord? Many attacks over the past few months have been conducted without Harry Potter there to meet them. What does that mean for our way of life? For our futures? Are we to continue to put our faith behind a boy who stays at home and leaves everything to the Ministry? _

_Newly appointed Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, has gone on record saying, "Potter's made it perfectly clear to me that he wants nothing to do with the Ministry for Magic. Now, that doesn't mean we still won't do everything we can to bring these Death Eaters and their leader to justice, because we are the Ministry Of Magic, and we are strong as long as we stand together. It is regrettable that Mr. Potter feels the need to strike out on his own, but we must hope he will someday soon look towards us for the assistance we are willing to give him." _

_Is this the acts of a troubled young hero? Does Harry Potter feel he is making a statement, straying from the Minister and sitting at home while the world goes to ruin? _

"_BOLLOCKS_!" yelled Ginny. She screwed up the paper and angrily threw it over to the Slytherin table, hitting a young second year in the back of the head. Everyone had gone silent and looked around at her in amazement. But she didn't care. She didn't even notice. She just sat there, fuming at what she had just read.

Colin winced and looked around at everyone staring, his worst fears being realized. "Ginny…'

"When did you get this paper?' she demanded from Colin, her eyes blazing.

"Yesterday morning, but…"

"_YESTERDAY_?' she cried, glaring at him. 'You got this yesterday and you didn't feel the need to tell me?"

"For Gods sake, Ginny, calm down…"

"Calm down? Calm _DOWN_?' she cried, getting to her feet. 'Did you read what they wrote about him? The _nerve_ of them!' she cried out in anger, swung her bag over her shoulder (narrowly missing whacking Denis in the head) and stormed off in a huff. 'How _could_ they…after everything he's done…bloody idiot Minister…'

"Ginny, wait!' called Colin, getting to his feet.

Ginny didn't stop. She stormed out of the Great Hall, marched her way through the Entrance hall and barged her way out the double oak doors and out into the frosty Thursday afternoon. The icy chill hit her like a steam train, but she ignored it. She just wanted to walk as far away from that rubbish of a paper as possible. She wanted to walk all the way home.

Colin had caught up to her in no time, his long lanky legs able to stride a lot further when he ran. He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Ginny, just wait a second…"

"I don't want to wait a second!' She snapped, wrenching herself free of his grip.

"Don't be stupid! It's freezing out here and you're not even wearing your cloak! You'll catch your death!' said Colin irritably, jogging along side her as she continued to walk briskly.

Ginny stopped and glared at him. "What did you expect me to do, Colin? Just laugh something like that off? Pretend it was alright? That's libel! It's…its just…'

"Horrible? Snarky? Complete and utter shite?' offered Colin, stepping in front of her to cut off her path. 'I know all that and so does everyone else with half a brain cell. You know what the _Prophet's_ like! They're not exactly on Harry's Christmas card list."

"I don't care if it was my own mother writing it!' fumed Ginny. 'God, I am so _angry_…"

"Really? I couldn't tell.' Said Colin sarcastically.

Ginny glared up at him, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

Colin shivered against the cold wind and rubbed her arms comfortingly. "Look, I can see that you're annoyed and frustrated and angry…trust me, I can practically feel the heat coming off you…but _please_ don't let things like that get to you. You know Harry isn't like what they're saying. We _all_ know that! And anyone who believes that bollocks is just an idiot who needs their thick head examined. The Prophet's loosing all credibility…no doubt they're in Scrimgeour hip-pocket. He's probably got them writing it just to spite Harry for what he said to him last year.' He put his hands on her shoulders. 'I get that you miss him, and that reading stuff about this is hard for you, but getting angry does none of us any good least of all Harry."

"Me being here doesn't help Harry either.' She growled.

"Well, neither does getting pissy and hormonal.' Retorted Colin. 'God, I've never seen you like this, Gin. What's gotten into you lately?"

Ginny exhaled through her nose, trying to calm down. Colin was right; no one worth listening to believed hardly anything the Prophet wrote anymore. They'd lost their once highly respectable reputation two years ago when they blatantly refused to report on Voldemort's obvious return. She knew it was a waste of energy, getting fired up over something so insignificant, but she was just so _frustrated_…

She sighed and put a hand over her eyes. "I'm sorry, Colin, I'm being stupid…"

"Eh, it's alright. I've seen you stupider than this.' He smirked, bouncing on his heels.

Ginny smiled and hugged him. The first thing she would always notice about her good friend Colin Creevy was how tall he was. It was like hugging Bill or Ron…all arms. He'd changed so much in the past few years. His normally hyperactive personality had toned down a lot. Not that he wasn't prone to occasion bursts of overexcitement, because he was, but he had matured a lot since their forth year. He'd grown out his mousy hair and it now had the style of a muggle rock star. He'd grown into a very capable wizard, and always seemed to be able to find a way to kick her butt in Potions. His infatuation with Harry, while still existent, had dimmed to a simmer. Not that he still wasn't a fan of Harry's, because he was. He still thought very highly of Harry and no doubt always would, but he wasn't the obsessed little boy with a camera around his neck anymore. Now he carried his wand in his pocket and his camera in his bag, need taking over want. He'd been a good friend to her since they first met five years ago, but they'd become closer recently. Maybe because she didn't have anyone else to hang around with all the time now that her brothers, Harry and Hermione had gone.

Colin patted her back. "So, can we go inside now? Its bloody freezing and I think my bollocks are shriveling up."

"Just what every girl needs to hear when she's hugging a bloke.' Laughed Ginny, pushing him away.

They made their way back up to the castle again and Colin slung an arm around her shoulders. "I know you worry about him, but he's going to be fine. He's _Harry Potter_! He's got more lives than a bloody cat!"

Ginny smiled. "Even cats run out of lives."

"He's faced Dragons and Merpeople and You-know-who one, two, three…_three_ times already, he's battled spiders and evil professors and Inferni and Dementors and a giant snake…"

"_Please_ don't remind me of that.' She groaned.

Colin snorted. "The point is he's clever. He's talented and smart and cluey. He'll be alright."

"Yeah, until that hero complex of his kicks in and he does something stupid.' Muttered Ginny, thinking of all the horrible situations he could get himself into without her there to smack him over the back of the head and tell him to stop being a dolt.

"He likes playing the hero.' Said Colin thoughtfully. 'You know, walking off into the dark, his cloak billowing out behind him in that mysterious and attractive way…'

"Is this a private moment? I could leave you alone."

"I'm not saying _I'm_ attracted…"

Ginny giggled, put an arm around his middle and gave him a side-on hug. "Thank you, Colin."

"For what? Allegedly coming onto your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend. Don't you read the tabloids? Listen to the rumors?"

"Sure he is,' he smiled, 'he just doesn't remember."

Ginny shivered against the wind as it blew through her hair, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. That was a nice thought to hold on to. She looked up at Colin, his sandy hair blowing wildly in the wind and his gold and scarlet tie flying out over his shoulder. When had he become so understanding?

Colin smiled and squeezed her shoulders. "Don't worry about Harry, he's perfectly alright. I bet you any money that while we're here doing homework and going to class, he's at home sitting on the sofa, eating popcorn and listening to the wireless."

--------------

BOOM!

Harry had dropped onto his stomach just in time for a curse to go sailing over his head and crack into the wall behind him, ripping right through the tapestry and sending rubble all over him. He grunted and got to his feet shakily, ruffling the dust out of his hair.

Lily sighed and looked at him woefully. "Can I go now? I've already fired every spell I know at you. We get the point already… you can _dodge_…hooray for you…'

"Its not dodging I'm worried about,' said Harry, dusting off his shoulders, 'it's my shields. I don't think there's strong enough and you're one of the most powerful people I know. I want to test myself out."

"Your shields are fine."

"Because you're not attacking me with all your power.' Said Harry irritably, fingering his wand in his hand.

"Well _excuse me_ if I feel a little reluctance toward hexing my son!' said Lily, folding her arms over her chest.

Harry pursed his lips. "Mum, please? Can't you just pretend I'm someone else or something? Pretend I'm Snape. Pretend I'm Voldemort. Hell, even pretend I'm Aunt Petunia if that will get you mad enough."

"And what if you can't stop my attacks?"

"If I can't, then I assume I shall be very sore in the morning.' Said Harry, taking his stance at the ready excitedly. 'Come on, give me everything you have. Don't hold back on me."

Lily frowned at him. "Why are you so eager to do this all of a sudden?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "So I don't die when we have our 'final battle'. I would think, out of everyone, you'd be all for me not dying."

"Oh believe me, I'm the Head Cheerleader in _that_ support team,' she said, pocketing her wand, 'but I don't think that's the only reason."

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. "Is this the part where you psycho-analyze me, trying to see what's really going on under my steely exterior?"

Lily gave him a look. "Don't talk to me like that please. I'm your mother, and it's my God-given right to be nosy. If I want to play shrink to my son I damn-well will, and there's not a bloody thing you can do about it. Get used to it, sonny-Jim…you've got a _parent_."

Harry shut his mouth.

Lily crossed over to him. "I can't help but feel that this surge of hostility in you has something to do with the other day."

"What about the other day?' muttered Harry, bowing his head quickly.

"You saw a young girl get murdered, Harry,' said Lily softly, 'it's okay to be upset by that."

"I'm not upset.' Said Harry shortly.

"Is that why you want us to put you through his practice? This beating?' she asked as if he had not spoken. 'Are you secretly hoping your shield wont work? Are you trying to…to _punish_ yourself?"

"No!' he cried, taking a step away from her. He put his hands in his back pockets and backed away from her as if she were dangerous, breathing heavily. He was looking everywhere except at her, as if trying to work out the best way to escape. 'And…and even if I was…so what?"

"So _what_?' said Lily, amazed. 'Harry, what happened…it wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it?' he retorted. He shook his head, his shaggy hair bouncing around as he cast his glance around like a small animal cornered. 'The only reason that girl died, the only reason _any_ of those people died, is because he knew it would hurt me. He _knew_ I'd be watching, and he knew that I couldn't…that I…' he trailed off and ran his hands through his hair with a frustrated swipe. 'I should have been there, dammit. I should have done _something_. I should have gone to help her, but all I could do was fall to the floor in pain."

"That does not make any of this your fault. Look at me.' Said Lily sternly, taking his shoulders. He hesitated, before his emerald green eyes lifted to meet her own. 'There is no way you could have saved her even if you did go haring off after her. There were seven Death Eaters there _and_ Voldemort. You would have been outnumbered, and he would have killed you just as easily as he killed those people. If you keep dwelling in this regret it's going to distract you, and you're not going to be able to save many other people you are capable of saving. That you're meant to save.' She took his face in her hands and brought him close, their noses almost touching. When she spoke again, it was in that soft, gentle, sincere voice of hers that seemed to lift him like phoenix song. 'You are not in this alone, Harry, do you hear me? It is _not_ your responsibility to save everyone…regardless of the shite the _Daily Prophet_ writes about you. This is a war, and people die in war. It's always unnecessary and its always mortifying, but you need to focus on all the good you've done. Of all the people you have saved and of all the people you are going to save. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Its cruel what he does to you, I know…making you watch…but you need to prove to him that that's not the way he's going to get to you. That you're stronger than he thinks you are. Its upsetting, Harry, I know, and you have every right to be upset. But you do _not_ need to feel guilty for something you had no control over."

Harry considered her for a long moment, not saying anything. He wanted to badly to absorb her words and take them as gospel, but a lifetime of conditioning was instinctively telling him to resist. Since he was old enough to remember, everything had been his fault. Dudley's toys being broken when he was little, Cedric being killed, Sirius falling through the veil…it had all been connected to him. He'd never had a parent, a _real_ parent, to hold him in a gaze like he was held captive by now and to tell him that it wasn't his fault. That sometimes bad things happened, but that everything would be okay. It was dangerously seductive, and he wondered what it would be like to give in to it.

He looked into her face, wondering if he was as transparent to her as she was to him in that moment. "Mum…if you could see anything, what would you do?"

"Learn to close my eyes.' She said, giving him a small smile. She brought his head down, stood on tip-toe and kissed him on the forehead…right on his scar. Harry shivered at such personal contact, but didn't dwell on it. She sighed and patted his arms. 'Now, with all that in mind…do you still want me to test your shields?"

Without a word, Harry grinned and quickly moved around her and made his way over to the other side of the basement, pulling his wand back out of his pocket eagerly. He took his stance and held his wand at the ready, an intently focused expression on his face.

"Remember…no holding back. Hit me with your best.' He grinned cockily.

"Are you sure?' she said, her tone not hiding one inch of her reluctance. 'I don't want to hurt you."

Harry said nothing, just bobbed impatiently, giving her a 'get on with it' look.

Lily blew air out through her lips. She was conflicted about doing this. She knew he probably still wanted her to hurt him, and she knew she shouldn't encourage him. He was still only just keeping his head above the surface of a deep pool of guilt, and she wasn't sure if this distraction would lift him out or push him under. Sometimes, like in this particular moment, he was so hard to read that you just had to take the risk and have a guess. Weigh up the pros and cons. If he could block her strongest attacks that gave him a leg up on Death Eaters and a confidence boost, but if he deliberately didn't try she would seriously hurt him and he would probably embrace its pain.

So, she decided to 'kick the tires' of his intentions.

Pulling her wand out, she flicked it upward and sent a spell flying at him. Quick and prompt and waved his wand wordlessly and deflected the spell. Lily only waited a moment until she sent another two in quick succession, both of them as easily deflected by him as the first.

Harry laughed. "Oh, come on! _Dobby_ could do better than you!"

"I really don't…'

"Mum, _please_!' he implored, looking almost desperate. 'Just…just help me, will you? Please."

Lily pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing. She didn't want him becoming even more depressed, but she didn't want him unprepared for Death Eater's either. He seemed alright, and he looked genuinely prepared. A jolt like this may be just what he needed to knock some sense into him.

She twirled her wand in her fingers. "Alright, fine."

Harry had only just lifted his wand when the first spell sailed alarmingly fast through the air toward him. His eyes widened as the hex hit his shield hard, his wand vibrating in his hand from the contact. She didn't pause, but fired up even more and threw spell after spell at him each more intense and powerful than the last. Harry seemed to only just be able to block them all, the force of them backing him up as Lily moved forward, throwing another spell with each step. She looked angry and determined, as if he were a real enemy, and he couldn't help but feel a little nervous. If this was how enemies saw her, it was any wonder they even stayed around to fight this long.

Harry continued to block, only getting in just in time, before finally she threw three final curses at him in lighting fast succession. He managed to get two, but one fought its way through and hit him in the chest, sending him flying into the wall behind him. He cried out and slid to his knees, breathing heavily.

Lily stopped her attacks instantly and winced, but she didn't let him see. She pocketed her wand and stood over him. "You alright?"

"Er…yeah…"

"Get up." she said, deadpan.

Harry looked up at her and she was horrified to see he was sweating profusely. But he didn't comment on it, just got to his feet slowly. He leant against the wall for a moment to steady himself and looked her right in the eye, almost defiantly.

Lily straightened up. "If you want me to help you train then I will…but not now. Not until you've sorted yourself out properly."

Harry watched with a frown as she turned on her heel and headed out of the room. "I said I'm _fine_."

"And I'm your mother, and I say you're _not_ fine.' She said over her shoulder. She turned back to face him. 'Go upstairs, rest, write to Ginny…"

"Why do I need to write to Ginny?"

"It'll make you feel better.' She said. 'Talk to her about what happened."

"No doubt she already knows.' Muttered Harry, bowing his head.

"Don't you think it would be better coming from you?"

Harry shrugged awkwardly and muttered something she couldn't make out.

Lily sighed and rubbed her eyes, her hopes that her son had not inherited his father's blatant stupidity in the area of woman suddenly completely obliterated. "Go write to her. It'll make you feel better – _she'll_ make you feel better."

"How is talking to someone I'm not aloud to be with anymore going make me feel even the slightest bit better?' Said Harry, pocketing his wand. He shook his head with an impatient sort of sigh and walked around her toward the stairs. 'I'm going to go have a shower."

"Harry…' she called after him, but he'd left up the stairs before she could even get to the second word. Lily let the arm she had outstretched flop to her side with a sigh. 'Dammit."

* * *

A/N – I can hear you R/Hr shippers now, 'When do we get OUR turn!' and I promise it is soon! They're my main ship too, so I don't want to get them wrong. Surely you understand.

Please review!


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31!

* * *

Ron lay awake in bed after dinner, one leg hanging over the edge of the mattress with his hands linked behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

It was the first real day off they'd had in weeks, and while normally his first instinct would be to go for a fly or take a walk or just do anything he liked doing more than study and fighting, all he could be bothered doing now he had the opportunity was sit still and, for once, do absolutely nothing. He was tired mentally and physically and it seemed years since the last time he'd just kicked back and relaxed. But, even as he tried to unwind, it seemed his mind stubbornly refused to come out of 'research' mode.

For the past few weeks it was like a routine had been set up for them. Research, eat, sleep, get drawn into a battle, come home and research again. It was exhausting and scary and, Ron had to admit, sometimes he thought he'd much rather be back at school. He'd much rather have that security and safety than what they were going through now – the unpredictable moments where you couldn't walk down the street without wondering if you were going to get a spell in the back were a stress he knew he'd one day have to handle, but still dreaded. Everything was just so exhausting, but the thing that seemed to tire him the most was the endless research.

He just wasn't the type for endless reading; never had been and never would be – regardless of the subject. He knew Horcruxes were important, and he knew they had to try and find out the location of the Cup and the identity of Gryffindor's, but reading just wasn't the way he would have preferred to do it. Reading was Hermione's area. It was just…her _thing_. It was what she brought to the group. He brought…

Well, he didn't know exactly _what_ he brought…but it certainly wasn't reading.

He was more of a practical person than a theoretical person. He always had been. He'd always learnt better by actually doing things rather than _reading_ about doing things. It was probably why reading about the Founders was so hard and boring. He'd rather be out there actually looking for them, actually asking people about them and actually getting his hands dirty rather than risking a paper cut and hemorrhaging over Hermione's precious volumes. So far they'd looked at what seemed like every magical location in England for Hufflepuff's Cup, and they'd looked at every personal object Gryffindor had ever been recorded as carrying upon his person. But they'd run into either dead ends or endless mazes of possibility, and two weeks on Hermione looked ready to collapse from exhaustion and Harry looked as though his mother had died – again.

Ron rubbed his eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to clear his mind. It was unnatural for it to be so busy, especially so close after dinner. Normally this would be the time he would start to doze off and have what Charlie called 'A Nanna Nap', but there was a beehive buzzing around in his head, and no matter what he did he couldn't relax.

And that blasted piano was playing again!

Ron frowned up at the ceiling as the low notes floated down into his room. This wasn't the first time he'd heard the music. In the past month he'd heard it a few times, always at night. He'd been under the impression that there was a ghost playing it, because he never saw anyone go up there or come down, and he didn't know anyone who could play so beautifully. The riddle intrigued him constantly, and he'd always wanted to solve the mystery.

So, with nothing else to do but lie there and slip slowly into madness, Ron sat up, swung his legs around, got to his feet and padded out of the room.

The melody was like a trail of breadcrumbs, seductively leading him down the hallway and up the stairs like the tunes of The Piped Piper. He wasn't an expert in music, but he knew that this was very good. Whoever it was, be it ghoul, apparition, human, poltergeist or figment of his imagination, had been taught well and knew how to handle the notes. He followed his ears all the way up to the rickety old door, third on the left. He stood before it and frowned as the music continued.

This was Hermione's study room.

Did she have a record on? The wireless? Ron didn't know her to own either of these things. At her house, in her room she had a muggle CD player like Ginny had, but the only records she had in the house were old records of her parents. It wasn't uncommon for Hermione to barricade herself in this room for hours at a time after mealtimes, but Ron didn't remember her coming up, nor did he ever remember her listening to music.

Intrigued past the point of no return, Ron reached out and took the door handle, hesitated, then turned it sharply to the left and pushed it open a fraction. The music flooded out of the room like a river rapid. He poked his head in the room and looked around for only a second before he spotted her and his eyes widened, shocked.

_Hermione_ was playing the piano!

He didn't even know she _could_ play, but here she was, playing like a professional right before his very eyes! Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, off her face where a small smile played on her mouth. Her posture was straight as her fingers danced over the keys, composing a melody Ron didn't know but she had obviously played many times. The room was rather dark, lit by only a few candles and oil lamps, but Hermione didn't seem to need the light to know exactly which key to hit.

Ron opened the door a little more and leant against the doorway. He wanted to go in and sit with her, listen to her play, but he knew if she knew he was there she would immediately stop playing. So he remained partially hidden behind the door, taking the opportunity to openly admire a side of her he'd never known about. She looked to calm as she played. In the past few months he'd scarcely seen her without a harassed expression on her face; so much so he was afraid he was starting to forget how she looked when she was relaxed. But she looked peaceful as she played, as if the music were hypnotizing and took her away from everything for just a few short minutes of respite and solitude. Her head bobbed along with a slow beat and her eyes seemed to flutter closed. She looked as much in her element playing as she did when she was studying, and Ron was surprised by this.

But he was more surprised that he could know her for seven years and not know she could play an instrument!

Ron moved into the room a little more, taking care on the squeaky floorboards – and that's when he noticed Crookshanks. The brittle-haired tea cozy with claws was curled up on the floor just in front of him, his yellow eyes narrowed at Ron warningly. His tail flicked back and forth and his back arched, signs he knew that Ron knew meant that he was telling him to back off. Ron glared down at the cat, wishing Hermione would, just once, let him boot the little blighter out the window of a thirty story building…just to see if cats really did always land on their feet. They had a simple relationship: Ron hated him and he hated Ron. There really were no grey areas, especially when it came to Hermione. Ron gave the cat a 'buzz off' look and bared his teeth at him.

That's when Crookshanks screeched, bared his claws and launched at Ron.

Three things happened at once. As Crookshanks bolted toward Ron's ankle, Ron cried out, threw the door open fully and jumped out of the way just in time for Crookshanks to skid past him into the hall, along the landing and almost fall through the railing to the floors below. The music stopped with one long, noise note of too many keys being played at once followed by a surprised gasp from Hermione as she looked up at Ron, stunned and embarrassed.

Ron glared at Crookshanks as the cat gave him one last hiss and trotted off down the stairs, tail in the air. "Bloody cat…show you just _how_ they make Dim Sims…' he muttered angrily, watching him go.

"Ron!' said Hermione, promptly snapping the lid to the keyboard shut.

He looked back around at her and sighed. "Please don't stop."

"How long have you been standing there?' she snapped, pretending to be angry to cover up her embarrassment.

"Not very long.' He admitted, ruffling his hair awkwardly. 'I didn't…I wasn't…_bloody_ _cat_. I didn't want you to know I was watching."

"Why _were_ you watching?' she demanded. Even in the dim light he could see her cheeks were flushed.

Ron shrugged and came into the room properly. "I heard music – I just wanted to see where it was coming from."

Hermione frowned. "Have you heard me playing before?"

Ron nodded. "A couple of times, yeah."

Hermione exhaled shakily and put her face in her hands, muttering something he couldn't make out.

"Why are you embarrassed? You're good! Not that that's surprising.' He smiled, coming over to her. He sat down beside her on the stool and shoved his hands in his pockets. 'Why didn't you tell us you could play piano?"

"You never asked.' She said, rubbing her face. She groaned and laughed shakily. 'Oh God, and here I was thinking I was actually getting _away_ with this…'

"You don't have to hide it from us, Hermione.' He laughed, amazed at her modesty. 'It's not like you're up here brewing illegal potions and planning on selling them to school kids"

"No, I suppose not. But it's still embarrassing."

Ron rolled his eyes. "How can it be embarrassing? You're really good!"

Hermione looked at him. "You…you think so?"

"Yeah!"

"I'm not as good as I used to be. I haven't played this much in years.' She said, lifting the lid again. She ran her fingertips across the ivory keys softly, feeling the cool sensation. 'I used to play every night before I went to bed when I was little…but then I got into Hogwarts and I didn't get the opportunity anymore. Study became more important than music."

Ron pressed the F key softly with his index finger, listening to the low thrum of the string within the piano. 'Must be like riding a broom; once you learn you never forget."

Hermione shrugged. "It's not so much remembering songs and overtures that pulls me back in."

"What is it then?"

"It's…the _sound_.' She said, playing a chord slowly all the way up to the next octave. 'I don't know, it may sound silly…but there's something about the piano than clears my head. When I'm playing, there's just something that settles me. Makes me relax. There are thoughts going through my head all the time, Ron. _All the time_. And this, doing this, playing the piano seems to quiets them."

Ron looked at her, conscious of how his shoulder was resting up against hers. She gazed down at the keys in an expression of inhibited wonder, as if she marveled at the power this instrument seemed to have over her. He had no idea how switched on she always seemed to be. Of course, he knew how brilliant she was and how she was always thinking, always two steps ahead, but he didn't know that she got no respite from it. That it seemed she was more exhausted than he'd thought.

She smiled regretfully. "I know I shouldn't be doing this, what with all the research we have to be doing…'

"Hey, we've been working as hard as humanly and morally possible. Everyone deserves a well-earned break – especially you.' He said sternly. 'Don't go taking on more than you can handle. You tried that once and it almost drove you around the bend, remember?"

"I remember,' she said, beginning to play softly again, 'you don't have to lecture."

Ron's ears went red. "I'm just worried about you, is all."

Hermione stopped playing and looked at him. "You are?"

He smiled bashfully and nodded, wondering if it was appropriate to get a little closer to her.

She smiled and patted his hand. "Thank you."

He frowned. "What for?"

"For hearing my pathetic little anecdote and not making fun of me.' she giggled, slouching.

"I would never make fun of you." He said seriously.

"The last six years notwithstanding?" she asked, arching her eyebrows.

Ron bowed his head, suddenly ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry."

Hermione frowned, reached up and tucked his longish red hair behind his ear. He looked at her, as startled by receiving the gesture as she was for giving it. "Don't ever be sorry for who you are, Ron – it's why we love you."

He leant in toward her hand. If he just tilted his head a little more to the left his lips would be against her palm. "'We?'" he said softly.

She didn't respond. She couldn't. They were both aware of the limited space between them and were glad for it. Maybe it was their fatigue, or the candlelight, or the distant ringing of a beautiful piano still ringing melodically in their ears, but they found themselves just staring at each other. Staring at a line they'd always been conscious of but had never been game enough to consciously acknowledge, let alone cross. Her right hand was still cupping his face… she could feel growing stubble on the heel of her palm…he was so close he could see the faint freckles on her nose…

Creaking floorboards cut through them like a whip. They jerked apart and looked around at the doorway just in time to see Harry appear, looking pale and harassed, his scar red and almost pulsating. His chest was heaving and his ink black bangs were ticking to a sweaty brow.

He gave them a significant expression and breathed, "We're on."

They didn't need any more information than that. In an instant, Ron and Hermione were on their feet and running after Harry, wand out before they'd even gotten down the stairs.

-------------

Draco looked up from his paper as Tonks bustled into the room, fastening a cloak around her neck.

She pointed at him, giving him a stern look. "Don't use the phone, don't mail anyone, lock the doors and windows and don't answer the door for any God-damn person, even those door-to-door advertisers who claim they can get you excellent Timeshare because they _cant_, Draco, I don't know how many times I've told you that."

And with that, she rushed out of the room again.

"What? Wait one moment!' cried Draco, throwing the paper down and leaping out of his seat. He rushed off down the hall after her and found her in her room, knelt on the floor and reaching under her bed for something. 'Where are you going? And what in Hades name makes you think I can use that ringing 'stone' thing contraption hanging on the wall in the kitchen?"

"There's another attack.' She said shortly. She pulled out a talisman and was on her feet and rushing out off the room again in no time, Draco right on her heels.

"Can I come?' he asked eagerly.

Tonks whirled around and glared at him. "Can you _come_? This isn't a trip down to the local shopping centre where I can buy you candy if you keep tugging on my sleeve long enough, Draco."

Draco sighed. "I know that you twit of a woman…although I will try that technique as soon as possible."

"Get out of my face, will you? I have to go!"

"I want to help!"

Tonks stopped dead and looked around at him in amazement. He straightened up, as if just realizing what he'd said. "You want to _help_? Draco, you're the bad guy on the run. You don't get to help. And frankly I'm surprised you even _want_ to help, considering they're your 'bestest best friends' we're fighting against."

Draco lifted his chin. "I don't need to explain myself to you."

"Oh yes you do junior, if you ever want to take one step out that front door ever again!' she snapped, poking him in the chest. 'Do you even understand _why_ you're here?"

"Because I'm allergic to hay?' he asked.

Tonks glared at him, wishing she, like Superman, had the ability to fry things with her eyes. "I don't have time to be getting into this with you now. When I get home, I want _your_ arse in _that_ armchair because we are going to have a very long talk."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I certainly can't wait."

"Well I can. Now _move_, will you? You're getting under my feet…"

CRACK.

"Dora, what's taking you so long? They've already put ten of us out of commission and…'

Tonks had only just shoved Draco harshly into the next room as Remus had appeared. Luckily, he had been looking the other way when he'd appeared, so he hadn't seen Draco go flying into the kitchen in a half-trip sort of a cartwheel. He stopped when he saw Tonks looked at him, obviously horrorstruck.

Remus sighed and threw the space where the blonde haired boy had been standing moments before a look of contempt. "Oh…_that's_ why."

She nodded. "I'm coming. At least I'm trying to."

Draco came back into the room, rubbing his chest. "Nymphadora that _hurt_! You pushed me into the crockery cabinet!"

"I'll push you into a tank of Blast-Ended Skrewts if you call me 'Nymphadora' again.' She growled, fussing around.

"The werewolf gets to.' He said in outrage.

"The werewolf also gets to munch on the bones of gangly, spoilt little rich kids with bad complexions when he's behaved himself.' Snapped Remus, giving Draco a warning look. 'And trust me…I've had a good month."

"Father Christmas will be pleased.' Said Draco, rubbing his ribs gingerly.

"I meant what I said, Draco!' said Tonks irritably, pointing threateningly at him. 'If your backside is not settled properly in that chair by the time I get back, you…me…issues…"

Draco sneered and sat back down heavily, crossing one leg over the other with a rather feminine huff, muttering something about Potter and an great injustice done by the universe once again.

Tonks rolled her eyes and grabbed Remus's hand. "Wanting to help…_honestly_…"

They disappeared with another resounding CRACK, leaving Draco once again without having the last word.

---------------

BANG.

"_MUM_?"

Lily jumped up from the kitchen table, slamming the book she had been studying shut. She looked around in alarm and felt horror struck as her son, his two best friends and Molly Weasley walked in. Harry looked terrible; there was dirt and grime all over him, his glasses were cracked and there was blood on his hands, staining his fingernails. Hermione had a large gash up her arm, her sleeve ripped open and her hands were dripping blood on the floor, but otherwise she looked in good physical shape. Mrs. Weasley was still dressed in her apron, obviously having been in the middle of housework when she'd been summoned away.

And, held limp in Harry's arms, was the unconscious form of Ron Weasley.

"What the hell happened?' cried Lily, rushing over.

Harry grunted and collapsed to his knees under the strain, letting Ron fall clumsily to the floor. "There was an attack – where have you been?"

"I was at work until seven! Is he alright?' asked Lily, wiping the hair out of Ron's sweaty brow. He looked horrendous. He was pace and sickly, there was a cut on his forehead and blood was oozing from it, dripping into his hair and his left eye. There was a purple bruise forming on his cheekbone, his shirt was torn across the chest and was soaked with blood and there were cuts all over his legs, as if he'd waded through a river of thorns.

Mrs. Weasley knelt down at Ron's head and rested it softly in the crevice of her thighs. "He's going to be alright if I can do this quick enough. I need two people to do the spells, Lily…will you help me?'

"Yes, of course!' said Lily, rushing to the table to get her wand.

Harry knelt down at Ron's side and looked at his best friend's face. "The idiot…I told him not to…I _told_ him…"

"Since when has my son ever had the ability to do as his told?' said Mrs Weasley, ripping off a strip of cloth from her apron. 'Here, Harry, wrap up his ankle…it'll get infected…."

"Is he breathing?' asked Lily quickly, kneeling down opposite Harry.

"Only just. Its shallow, but its there.' Said Mrs. Weasley. She was acting very calm considering her youngest son was tiptoeing the line between life and death. 'He's hemorrhaging…we need to stop the bleeding…we need more bandages, I can't conjure them and work on him at the same time…"

"There are bandages upstairs.' Said Lily. She looked up at Hermione, who was standing stock still and looking down at Ron with wide-eyes of horror. 'Hermione, will you rush upstairs and get them please? Hermione?"

Hermione didn't respond at all. She was looking at Ron, completely lost for words, her mouth open in shock.

"_Hermione_!' cried Lily.

Hermione blinked and looked at Lily, as if just realizing where she was. She hugged herself as she began breathing heavily. "He's…I couldn't…"

Lily jumped to her feet as Molly began her spells and took Hermione's face in her hands. "It's alright, look at me…"

"I couldn't…I wasn't…"

"Hermione, sweetheart, _look at me_!" insisted Lily softly.

Hermione dragged her eyes off Ron's limp body on the floor and looked at Lily.

Lily looked her right in the eye. "I need you to try and focus for a minute, okay? We're going to help Ron, but I can't do it without you. I need you do go upstairs to the second floor bathroom and bring down the bandages in the cabinet. Can you do that?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes…yes, I can do that…"

"Good girl. Hurry."

With one final look at Ron, Hermione backed up slowly and turned on her heel, running out of the room.

Mrs. Weasley's wand was steady as she performed spell after spell on her son. Lily knelt back down beside him and took his red hand in hers. "If I can do these quickly enough he won't scar."

"What happened to him?' asked Lily.

Harry sat back on his heels and ran his hands through his hair, leaving streaks of red blood through his midnight locks. "There were thirty of them…all over Trafalgar Square. They were shooting curses everywhere…not caring who they hit…I've never seen so many of them. I didn't really realize Voldemort had that many followers until now."

Lily shook her head and worked on Ron's legs. "His numbers went down toward the end, I remember. He was having trouble rallying them. He still does, people aren't as easily persuaded as they used to be. We've learnt from our mistakes…we take precautions…half of those wizards today probably weren't even really Death Eaters at all, more like good innocent people under Imperious."

"We didn't stop to look.' Said Mrs. Weasley, her tone stony.

"I kept telling him to stay back,' said Harry, shaking his head in horror, 'I told him not to be so stupid, but he got all impulsive and angry…he thought he'd try and scare them…use the element of surprise…"

"_Them_?' enquired Lily, looking up from Ron's bruised legs and over at her son. 'Exactly how many did he take on at once?"

Harry bit his lip and sniffed. "I lost count at five."

Lily gasped.

"They were going for Hermione,' he continued, looking down at his best friend. 'They had their eyes on her…I told him not to do it…that she was about to apparate out…but he wouldn't _listen_! He tripped and…they all went for him. Thank God for the Aurors cause…we didn't…we couldn't _move_…

In that moment, footsteps sounded from the staircase and Hermione ran back into the room, her arms full of bandages. She dropped to her knees beside Harry and dumped her load beside Ron.

"I got every last one of them…if there isn't enough, tell me the spell and I'll conjure some more…"

"Its okay, they'll be fine.' Said Lily, waving her wand over Ron's abdomen. The wounds were glowing with a feint golden sheen as their magic slowly put him back together.

"Hermione, wrap one of them around your arm…we don't want you getting infected, dear…' said Mrs. Weasley, not taking her eyes off her son. 'Harry, bandage Ron's left forearm, will you please?"

Lily took Harry's hand as he grabbed one of the bandages. "You alright?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Can't really say the same about Remus…"

"Remus? What about…_oh_.' groaned Lily, realizing. 'The Full Moon, of course. Is he alright? Did he take his potion?"

"Yeah, but Greyback was there and…' he trailed off with a little humorless laugh, 'it wasn't a pretty sight. Safe to say now Remus's cover is blown. When Greyback saw Remus jump in front of Tonks to attack a Death Eater he went nuts and attacked him. He's…he's in a bit of a bad way. Tonks had to Portkey him to the hospital…took three of us to get Greyback on his back…"

Lily shook her head angrily and went back to Ron. "I should have _been_ there. Curse work! I'm quitting, I swear to God…"

"What good would it have done you being there?' said Mrs. Weasley, looking up from her son for the first time. 'Your cover you've spent the past two months keeping in tact would have been brushed unceremoniously aside…word would have gotten back to the Dark Lord of your presence…_you_ could be lying here right now instead of Ron, or worse."

"I can't keep missing these attacks! I can't keep sitting on the sidelines like a muggle when I can do so much more!' cried Lily irritably. 'You're lucky enough to be there for your children. I have to find out hours later! I have to watch mine walk in to a room injured and hurt, looking half-dead! Do you know how that feels, Molly?"

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips. Harry felt the tension and looked at Hermione for support, but her eyes were locked on Ron again, her eyes watering and her lip trembling. She looked ready to fall apart; she hadn't heard a word any of them had said.

Lily sighed and looked back down at Ron, her long red mane of hair falling around her face like a curtain as she resumed her work. "I'm sorry, Molly, this isn't the time."

Mrs. Weasley said nothing, just went back to work as well.

Harry rubbed his arms, wincing as sweat seeped into his open wounds. "Are you sure…he's…he's not waking up."

"He will. He needs rest…time to heal in the way magic can't replicate. Oh, Ronald Billius Weasley, you reckless little sod of a child…' muttered Molly angrily as the cut on Ron's forehead knitted back together, 'I'm going to fix you right up just so I can kill you myself."

----------------

Tonks hugged herself as she looked down at the large wolf on the sterile examination table, seven or eight mediwizards hovering over him with their wands out, casting charm after charm. Her hands were stained with blood; she didn't know who it belonged to. Dry tears stained her face as she looked at the unconscious animal form of her boyfriend being mended. He'd been slashed horrifically, there had been blood everywhere. It was strangely sad to see such a powerful being so helpless.

"Miss Tonks?"

She jumped, surprised as she realized she was being spoken to. A middle-aged Mediwizard was standing there, looking at her with the usual doctorial expression of sympathy. She rubbed her arms, fingering the rips in her sleeves that had nothing to do with fashion.

"How is he?' she asked, her voice shaky. 'Is he…"

"He has a lot of tissue damage from the attack.' Said the Wizard in hushed tones. 'The trauma his body goes through in the change alone is bad enough, but when you add the bite marks and the mauling…' he paused and clasped his hands together in front of him. '…he's going to need at least a week's rest. Luckily for us this is his final night in which he would shift, otherwise I would recommend keeping him here for observation. I am going to keep him in overnight and discharge him in the morning, just to make sure his shift back goes well."

Tonks nodded, looking around the doctor at the wolf on the table. "So…he's going to be fine? Nothing permanent?"

The Wizard smiled and shook his head. "Nothing a few spells won't fix."

Tonks felt as if her knees were about to give out from relief. They had been extraordinarily lucky that circumstances were what they were. The only reason she had been able to get him to St Mungo's was because he had taken his potion earlier that night with dinner, and because of that she had been able to sensibly coax him away from Fenrir and over to her. He had crawled on his front two paws, his back legs limp and useless and leaving a trail of blood behind him to get to her. It had taken four or five other wizards to keep Greyback busy while Remus made his escape. He'd been so weak, there had been blood everywhere, and she knew she would never forget the whimpering sounds of pain he made as he crawled over to her, his yellow eyes locked with hers…

The Mediwizard looked at her state of disarray with concern. "Would you like one of my staff to examine you? You look in a right state…"

"No, I'm fine.' Said Tonks quickly, waving a hand. She licked her chapped lips, wincing at the sting. 'Can I…can I stay with him?"

"I'd rather he not be around anyone but the bare minimum for tonight.' Said the Mediwizard regretfully. 'But you may come back first thing in the morning when he's back to his normal form."

"Can I at least say goodbye to him?' she said, looking at the man before her with watery eyes.

The Mediwizard considered her for a moment, before inclining his head respectfully. He ushered his people out of the way for the moment and allowed Tonks to approach. She did so carefully, her eyes taking in every inch of his fury body. He wasn't bleeding anymore and there was no more bone protruding from his back right leg. His wounds were stitching back together, leaving red bald patches all over his body as if he'd had a bad infestation of fleas. His eyes were shut, his tongue hanging out through his fangs as he drew in slow, even breaths. She wanted to stay by his side all night, watch as he shifted back into the Remus she knew and cared so deeply about, but didn't dare risk interfering with his recovery.

She bent down to his pointy ear. "Hey,' she whispered, stroking his fur gently, 'I'm here… I'm still here…' she sniffed back a sob and let a tear roll down her nose and fall onto his scratched snout. 'I have to go, but I'll be right back in the morning; I promise I'll be here when you wake up.' she kissed his snout gently, gave him one last pet and then left before she broke down completely.

She didn't look at anyone as she walked down the hallways of the hospital. The emergency ward was in utter chaos. People were being levitated in from all directions with many different injuries from the now abated battle at Trafalgar Square. People with injured arms, people with no arms, people who couldn't remember who they were or why they had a funny looking stick in their hand…it was tragic, and Tonks knew she had to get out of there.

It wasn't anything she hadn't seen before; she'd been an Auror for five years. She'd seen enough death and disaster to last her a lifetime. But every death was horrific and gut-wrenching. Every injury was like taking a blow to her own heart, and the fact that it was now the people she cared most about was becoming more than she believed she could take. She'd never liked hospitals, and today only fermented her opinions.

She made it down to the main entrance and, already having her wand out ready, apparated herself out of the building as quickly as possible. She felt the usual squeezing sensation for only a second before she was back in her living room, safe and sound. She let out a sigh, took of her cloak and tossed it carelessly over the back of the couch.

And she was about to make her way into the kitchen to find a very large bottle of Firewhiskey when she spotted Draco Malfoy, sitting in the chair she had told him to.

It almost made her laugh.

He just looked at her in silence, eyebrows arched as if he expected her to congratulate him on, for once, doing as he was told. But as each moment passed and no such praise was granted, his expectancy began to morph into a scowl.

Tonks sighed and put up a hand to shield her view of him. "Don't give me that look; I can't deal with your drama right now."

Draco opened his mouth to snap at her, but he paused as he saw the state she was in. He frowned. "What have you been doing? You didn't _really_ set up a tank of Blast-Ended Skrewts, did you?"

"A few of your friends decided they would like to cause some damage in Trafalgar Square tonight.' Said Tonks irritably.

"How much damage?' asked Draco, his eyes flashing. 'Were any muggles killed?"

"Last count…seven muggles.' Said Tonks, fingering her wand in her hand. 'There are two wizards dead, twenty in St Mungo's and the rest of us are patching ourselves up the best way we know how. There were over thirty of your friends there tonight; they just appeared out of bloody no-where and starting throwing curses in every which direction. Memory Reversal Squad's going to need serious overtime with this one I can tell you…"

"Was anyone captured?' asked Draco, sitting up straighter.

Tonks frowned at him. "Yeah, there was."

Draco licked his lips anxiously. "Was…there wasn't…"

"No, your mother wasn't there.' She said.

Draco went eerily still, his expression stony and guarded, and if Tonks didn't know any better she'd say he'd just let out a very big inward sigh of relief. That was something she'd learnt about him during their time living together; any serious emotions he was strongly guarded against expressing. Worry, happiness, anxiety…

"Where's Lupin?' asked Draco, looking around.

Tonks massaged her tongue with her back molar, choosing to look away from his demanding grey eyes and at her feet. "He's, er…recovering."

Draco quirked an eyebrow lazily. "Recovering?"

"Yes, recovering."

"Aw, all that magic too much for the big bad wolf to handle? I'm disappointed."

Tonks gripped her wand tightly. "Don't talk about Remus like that please."

Draco shrugged gracefully and got to his feet. "It's a war, and sadly your side seems to always come off for the worse, don't they? Want to know why?"

"Not really, but you're going to tell me anyway."

"Because you care so much about one another.' He said, his tone holding that old arrogance she thought he was beginning to loose; the arrogance of someone who thought that they were better than everyone else. 'That's why we always come off as the victors, because Death Eaters, while valuable to the Dark Lord, are expendable. They can be replaced."

"Like you were?' she retorted angrily.

"I was not replaced.' He sneered.

"No, you were tossed aside like yesterday's trash!' She snapped, sparks shooting from the end of her wand. 'Your loyalty to a side not brave enough to care for its own people astounds me, Draco, especially seen as you've proved during the course of the past six months that you are not as heartless as they are!"

Draco seemed offended by this. "Is this the part where you tell me what horrid people my family is? What wretched beliefs we live by? What low standards we pride ourselves on? Well guess what Miss Bertie Botts Hair; _you're a part of that family_! Your blood is my blood! You have alliances to people you claim are your enemy, for example, moi!' he sneered, poking himself in the chest. 'What does that make you? Treachery, secrecy, forbidden alliances…still think you're one of the good ones?'

Tonks took slow, deep breaths as if it had been her shouting. They had done this dance many times in the past and she was too tired and too emotional to get into it again. But she was irritable and anxious and frustrated, and yelling at Draco was always a good way to get her frustrations out.

So, with one sweeping motion, she waved her wand at him and cast a Silencing spell on him.

Draco blinked and went to say something, but no sound came out. His eyes widened in horror and he said something again, but like before no sound came out. It was like someone had finally found his mute button and was not afraid to use it. He fired up and began yelling furiously, making sweeping motions with his hands, pointing at her with a shaky finger. Tonks was a little taken aback by his open hostility; he wasn't normally one to show his anger like this. There was a pink tinge to his pale cheeks and he looked as if he'd explode with all the anger.

Tonks rolled her eyes as he strode toward her, no doubt ready to physically show her what he thought of her. But in one quick motion, she lifted up her leg, put her foot against his chest and kicked him back into his seat.

He looked up at her, stunned as she planted a foot stubbornly in the V of his legs.

"Don't you even _think_ about touching me, Draco Lucius Malfoy,' she said in a low, threatening tone, 'I'm tired, hurt and unmercifully sober and you'll undoubtedly come off second best. So now that you've finally shut up, you've going to hear what I wanted to say to you earlier on. No interruptions, no witty remarks…just your ability to listen, however undeveloped and small it may be."

Draco glared up at her, appalled that this was happening to him.

Tonks removed her foot, conjured a chair and sat down opposite him. "Do you get why you're here, Draco? Why you're in this position? _Really_?

He didn't respond, just sneered at her.

"You are responsible for the death of a man. _You_ are. Because of what you did, the choices you made, that man is now dead. Its irrelevant that he was Albus Dumbledore, and that he was a very great wizard and your Headmaster and many more titles I don't need to name…first and foremost he was a _man_, a human being who bled red like you, and breathed oxygen like you, and had hopes and dreams and ambitions like you…and you destroyed that life. I know your motivation and I very begrudgingly understand it, which is more than you deserve quite frankly. Most people would not even have let you remove your hood had you arrived on _their_ doorstep before they sent you packing off to Azkaban. Maybe it's because I'm your cousin, maybe it's because of they way your mother treated mine, I don't know…but I seem to have this understanding of your choices and decisions that no-one else seems to get. You were scared, and you did what you thought you had to do to protect your family…but those choices had _consequences_, Draco, and one of them was the death of a man."

Draco's sneered melted, but did not dissipate.

Tonks sighed, leant her elbows on her knees and ran her hands through her hair. "I understand that Daddy never taught you this concept. He didn't need to. If you got into shite, he'd be there with his authority, his name and a bag of gold to get you out of it. But you're an adult now, Draco, and Daddy's not going to protect you this time. You have to deal with what happened…really deal with it…and I'm going to make you. Oh yes, I _can_ make you,' she added at his silent scoff, 'and don't for one second think I can't.

'Believe it or not, Draco, I actually do think you feel guilty about what happened. That in your own, strange way you _are_ regretting your decision. You may not have liked Dumbledore, and you may have wished him dead, but you would never have wanted blood on your hands. You're upset that it's your fault. You're upset that it came down to you. You committed murder, and you found out that it wasn't as easy as your father made it out to be. Murder isn't something you can just do, its something you live with. It's something that destroys something within you to, be it your hope, your sense of morality or even your humanity. Even You-know-who is effected by murder…no-one commits it without feeling."

Draco clenched his jaw, his cheeks flushing pink again. He just looked at her with a steely expression, and she didn't care if he was angry or upset. He needed to be.

Tonks sat back, took her wand out again and waved it at him. He coughed as if she'd released a tight grip from around his throat and he cleared his throat, his ability to speak restored.

"Why do you do this?' he asked, his voice raspy.

"Do what?"

"Lecture me. Teach me.' he inquired, looking curious. 'Why do you sit with me, day after day, and try to help me?"

"Because I'm one of the good guys, Draco,' she said simply, 'and I happen to prefer supporting people than condemning them. That's the difference between you and me; where you look for the flaws in people so you can exploit and hurt them, I look for the good in people so I can help them. And,' she added with a wry smile, 'because I'm totally bonkers."

"I don't want your help. I don't _need_ your help."

"Then why did you come to me?' she asked. 'Why do you burden me with your presence? With your guilt and your pain? Why do you stay here when you know you can be somewhere else? _Anywhere_ else."

Draco said nothing. There was nothing _to_ say.

Tonks rubbed her eyes and, just for the hell of it, lengthened her hair down to her shoulder blades and turned it into a curtain of the darkest black with streaks of purple running through it. They sat in silence for a long while after that. She sat back in her seat again and closed her eyes, aware of Draco watching her. At the beginning, his seemingly constant need to watch her had made her uncomfortable, but now she was quite used to it. She didn't know if he did it with everyone, or just with her, and she didn't know _why_ he did it…but to her it was just something he did, like a habit of biting fingernails, and she accepted it.

"You can't stay here anymore, Draco.' She said finally.

Draco blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. I can't have you here anymore."

He let out a 'ha' of shock. She wasn't looking at him but at her feet, and he found it extremely rude that she could not even look him in the eye while kicking him out on the street. "So, that's it, is it? You too will cast me out like yesterday's trash?"

Tonks blinked, surprised. "What? No, its not…"

"You sit there and tell me you want to teach me and help me, but you can't stand to be around me?' he asked angrily, his cheeks tinged with colour again.

"Draco, you're not letting me finish…"

'There's a word for this; hypocrisy!' he cried.

"Do I have to hit the mute button again' she yelled, jumping to her feet and pointing her wand at him with flashing eyes, 'Because I swear to God I will! And I won't be taking it off either!

Draco shut his mouth, knowing she wasn't bluffing.

Tonks sat down heavily and rested her wand across her knees. "What I mean before you opened you fat mouth was that you can't stay here anymore because it's too _dangerous_."

"Too dangerous as apposed to what?' he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Draco, please just _think_ for a moment. When Remus…' she paused, swallowing the lump in her throat, 'when Remus apparated in earlier on this evening, I had only _just_ got you out of the room. Imagine if that _hadn't_ been Remus. I'm an Auror and a member of The Order of the Phoenix! And while most people knock on the door before coming in, people will be apparating in at any time they want if there's an emergency. What if it had been Dawlish apparating in instead of Remus? Or Kingsley, or even Mad-Eye? I can put sensors around the house, but the truth is that if Mad-Eye pops over he'll expose you. His magical eye can see through anything, even Invisibility Cloaks. He'd bust your arse wide open and he won't be anywhere _near_ as potentially understanding as I was."

Draco pinched his chin with his long, elegant fingers. "So…I can't stay here."

Tonks smiled in relief. "No, you can't.

"So where are you planning on sending me?' he asked, his tone almost rudely demanding. 'Azkaban?"

"I said to you I wouldn't take you there and I meant it.' She said firmly. 'That is the last resort…although sometimes I think you belong in there with your father."

"Sometimes I think I would like do be there with him.' He muttered.

Tonks's eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was probably the first time he'd ever admitted something so personal to her and meant it.

He pursed his thin lips and quirked an eyebrow at her. "Well then, if not here and not the dismal décor of Azkaban…then where?"

She smiled grimly. "Well, I have an idea…but you're not going to like it…"

----------------

Hermione bit anxiously on her fingernails as she stared out the window. It was a habit she loathed other people for indulging, but she was worried and upset and tired and it was either bite her nails or smash up every bit of furniture within the room. It was well past The Witching Hour, and the courtyard below was dark and silent. The house was just as quiet; a silent blanked had settled over them, as no-one wanted to admit out loud what their fears actually were.

Hermione hadn't moved from the window seat in hours. She didn't want to move. She had to wait for him…she had to know he was going to be alright before she even looked into the future at anything else…

She shook her head as she thought of him, lying in his bed, bandages and bruised and covered in ointment. She'd stayed with him only for a moment before fleeing the room, leaving Harry there by his bedside. She couldn't handle seeing him like that again. When he had been poisoned last Christmas it had produced feeling within her she didn't know she even had, let alone could feel so powerfully. To see Ron, who was always smiling and joking and so full of energy lying unconscious had been more than she thought she could handle. She had, though only just, but for it to happen again…

Another tear fell from her eye and she watched it hit her knee in surprise. She'd been under the impression she'd cried herself into dehydration by now. She looked down at her bandaged arm; it no longer hurt as much as it had but it still ached, a feeling she knew meant it was healing slowly. She drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest, thinking back to the reason why he had been attacked in the first place, guilt filling her again…

_Hermione looked around with narrowed eyes as seven or eight Death Eaters surrounded her, jeering and laughing at her, taunting her current state of vulnerability. She scoffed inwardly at their ignorance – clearly they had no idea who she was. _

"_Pretty little Mudblood…' one sneered, firing a spell at her feet. She jumped out of the way quickly, regaining her composure. 'Shouldn't you be at home with your filthy parents?" _

"_Shouldn't you be dead by now?' another deep voice offered. The others laughed manically. _

"_Shouldn't you be licking your master's shoes by now?' she retorted, leaping out of the way of another curse. _

"_She dares! The nerve of her!' cried a woman's voice. 'We should kill her slowly…listen to her screams…take her to the far reaches of the earth and dump her with the rest of her filthy race of vermin…" _

_Hermione kept her wand at the ready, slowly turning on the spot so she was able to keep an eye on all angles. She knew she could apparate out, they were only playing with her afterall and if she appeared behind them she could take some of them out, but she was trying to get faces…see who they were underneath their hoods and masks… _

_Outside the circle Trafalgar Square was utter chaos…without the pidgeons. Everywhere there were streaks of colour, curses shouted, cries of terrified Muggles, people flying through the air, falling limp to the ground, fighting with their fists. She could see Harry and Ron out of the corner of her eye. They were watching on with horror, talking to each other and she instantly knew what they were thinking. Catching their eye, she shook her head and gave them a warning look that said 'stay away'. _

"_Enough of this playing!' cried another, nudging his colleague beside him. He twirled his wand in his hand and took a step toward Hermione, breathing a heavy laugh. 'Lets see if mud really does spill from her veins…" _

"_Hermione!' _

_Hermione heard Ron call her name, and she heard Harry cry out to Ron, obviously trying to convince him to stay put, but Hermione ignored them both. She raised her wand, ready to apparate out. If she waited for the right moment…watched for the split second when their hands twitched, ready to fire… _

"_Don't worry, little Mudblood,' said another Death Eater as they moved in tighter, 'we will be quick…you have only to suffer a little longer…" _

"_I wish I could say it was a pleasure meeting you,' she sneered, tensing up, ready, 'but I've met mollusks more humane than you." _

"_Ron, NO!"_

_Everything then seemed to happen in slow motion. As the Death Eaters made a synchronized upward sweeping motion with their wands, Hermione gripped her wand tightly in her hand, turned sharply to the left and disappeared with a CRACK. She felt the squeezing sensation for only a moment before she re-appeared out of the circle and beside Harry. _

_But Harry didn't even seem to have noticed that she was there. _

_Hermione had looked at him expectantly, but frowned when she saw the look of horror on his face. She looked around and felt her stomach drop so low it was sub-terraniun at what she was watching. _

_Ron was running, full-pelt toward the circle she had just apparated out of, his wand raised above his head like a warrior running right into battle. He cried out and managed to curse one from behind, but he clumsily tripped over the fallen wizard and threw himself quite literally into the mercy of six other Death Eaters. They laughed and attacked him as one, just as they had been about to do to Hermione…he cried out in pain as they lashed at him with spells as if they were using whips…Hermione couldn't move, she was so appalled… Ron was screaming…they were torturing him…_

Hermione wiped her eyes again; fresh streams of tears rolling down her cheeks. She'd been through the mill of emotions, frustration, anger, despair, guilt, but mostly anger. God, he was just so _reckless_! He was so impulsive and would never even just take a moment to think about what he was doing before he did it. If only he'd waited another split second…if only she'd apparated earlier…

She shook her head and glared out the window. Curse him for making her worry so much. Curse him for being so wonderfully _him_ that she cared about him so much. Curse him for being a fat-headed pillock and not thinking. It seemed like an age ago that they had sat at the piano across the room from her and talked, even…almost…

"Aw, no music?' came a familiar voice.

Hermione looked up at felt her heart leap up into her throat. Ron was standing just inside the doorway, free from ointment, his left arm holding his ribs gingerly. "_Ron_!" She was on her feet so fast it was like the seat had bitten her. She rushed over to him and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

Ron winced. "Ow, Hermione…I'm still tender…"

"Oh, Ron, I'm sorry!' she gasped, pulling back and looking at him in horror. She winced at the bandages around his torso, his left hand wrapped up; his cuts which had been oozing with blood were now nothing but purple bruises on his freckled skin… 'Did I hurt you?"

"Oh, no…just wanted to make you feel guilty.' He grinned.

Hermione frowned. "That's not funny."

"Hermione, it was a joke…"

"You think I haven't been worried sick about you? You think I haven't been feeling guilty?"

"No, that's not…"

"Even on your death bed you're still an inconsiderate prat!' she cried, her eyes shining again.

"Okay! Alright!' he laughed, holding up a hand in defeat as he back away. 'I get it…not welcome…I'll go back to bed…"

Hermione bit her lip as he made to leave. She reached out and grabbed his good arm, pulling him to a stop. "I'm sorry, please, don't go. I'm just…"

"Completely mental?' he asked with a smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, you could make a _saint_ loose his temper."

Ron shrugged, then gasped in pain. Hermione led him over to the piano stool and sat him down gingerly. Ron exhaled slowly, holding his ribs as his chest expanded and contracted. He must have been in terrible pain to be hobbling around like this. Ron had a surprisingly high pain tolerance level (probably something he'd discovered from all those years getting into fights with his brothers) and didn't normally walk around in such a slow manner; she'd seen him walk on a broken leg before, after all.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was still stained with specks of blood. "How long was I out?"

"Just over four hours.' Said Hermione, remaining on her feet. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold and looked down at him. 'Ron, what are you doing here? You should be in bed resting."

"Four hours with my lights knocked out isn't enough rest?' he asked, ginger eyebrows quirked.

Hermione gave him a look. "You sustained serious injuries, Ron. Walking around could undo all the healing your mother and Mrs. Potter did for you, and I know that you're bandaged up like a Mummy and you probably feel better than we're under the impression of, but…"

"I had to come see you.' He said softly, cutting through her as if he had yelled. 'I just…wanted to make sure you were alright. I mean, Harry said…but I just…' his sentence trailed off, unfinished as he looked down at the floor, his ears flushing red.

Hermione shifted her weight from one foot to the other, pushing aside the nagging tension. 'How do you feel?"

"Like a Giant's doormat at a New Years Eve party.' He groaned, flexing his right hand. It had scratches all over it.

Hermione bit her lip, trying desperately to keep her composure and wondering how on earth he was keeping his. "Are you alright? Should I call your mother up?"

He laughed and winced again. "No, Hermione, I already saw Mum before. Don't worry, I'm okay! Nothing broken…except my spine…and my ribs…and everything else…"

"_Ron_!"

"Hermione, _relax_!' chuckled Ron, rubbing his side. 'It's a joke, you know…funny ha ha…'

"I'm too scared to be funny right now.' She muttered, looking at his face desperately.

Ron sobered up. "Scared?"

"Yes, scared! I'm sodding terrified and not at all in the mood for any sort of humor!"

"What's wrong?"

Hermione let out a laugh of embarrassment and looked away from him. "Do you honestly not know?"

Ron frowned, wishing he didn't ache all over. It had almost killed him getting up the stairs to come and see her. "Are you worried about me?"

"Why do you sound so shocked?' she asked, unable to keep the offence out of her tone. 'Why can Harry and everyone else be worried about you but I cant?"

"It's different when it's you.' He said quietly.

Hermione pursed her lips. The ends of his red hair were falling into his eyes and she wanted to brush it away. "Yes, Ron, I'm worried about you."

"But why?' he asked. 'I'm fine; look…I'm okay…"

"But you _weren't_.' she said. 'You were unconscious, Ron. You were so badly injured in that attack that you almost stopped breathing…you almost _died_…and you think you can just brush that aside so easily with a joke? It's not funny. You think your life is that insignificant, that it wouldn't have been a big deal if you left us? You think we wouldn't die also?"

"Hermione, I don't…"

"You can't be so careless anymore.' She said, grabbing his broad shoulders. 'This isn't another giant chess game, this is _war_. People can die, Ron. _You_ could die. You could have died today…"

Ron shook his head slowly as she choked up and screwed her eyes shut. "Hermione…"

"You're so reckless!' she cried, stepping away from him and throwing her arms up in the air. She knew it was probably very rude and immoral to yell at a sick person, but she was too upset to stop. He needed to hear this. She needed to get it out. 'We've been extraordinarily lucky these past few years, but sooner or later that luck is going to run out! You're impulsive, and it's dangerous! Don't you see what happens when you don't think? You just…you don't stop! You don't think! Its bad enough I have to put up with _Harry's_ hero complex, but you as well…"

"Hermione, I wasn't trying to play the hero!' he said defensively. 'I was trying to help you! They had you surrounded! I thought they were going to hurt you! That they were…were going to…' he paused, trying to get a hold of himself. 'To think that someone may hurt you…it sends my rationality out the window. It's instinct to protect you, Hermione. It's impulse to help you. Asking me to be rational when you're in danger is something I know I can't do."

"You have to be.' She said, looking at him pleadingly. She took slow, shallow breaths and began pacing, quickly passing from the area of anxiety into the space of hysteria. 'You can't do this anymore, Ron. You have to be careful. I can't watch you be carried in like that again! I can't see you lying in a bed, cut and bleeding, unconscious…I cant…I just…I can't…'

Ron slowly got to his feet as she began to sob, a hand over her forehead. "Hey, stop…_stop_…'

He grabbed her by the shoulders and stopped her hysterical pacing. She was drawing in breath almost desperately, and he was worried for a moment than she may be hyperventilating.

He took her face in his hands and made her focus on him. "It's alright, Hermione. Its okay…I'm okay…"

"I can't see you like that again, Ron…I can't go through it again…' she whispered, taking his wrists but not moving his hands away. 'I _can't_…"

"Its okay, Hermione… its okay…' he said softly, trying to sooth her. 'It's okay…"

Hermione's breath was shaky as she looked up at his face. His expression was worried, yet reassuring. The bruise underneath his right eye was red and looked sore. He was pale under his freckles…he'd lost so much blood…her hands had been stained with it…

She took his face in her hands and stroked bruise on his cheek with her thumb. He didn't wince or look away. She moved her hands down to the collar of his shirt where it was ripped and fisted the material in her hands.

Without thinking, she pulled him closer and, sliding her left hand up behind his head, pulled him down and kissed him.

Ron stiffened only for a moment of shock, before he opened his lips against hers and responded. She tasted salty, of tears, but he took little notice. She pulled him in closer in an almost desperate gesture and pressed her body against him, running her tongue along the bottom of his lip. Ron exhaled slowly through his nose and put a hand on her waist, hoping to pull her even closer. Her lips were soft as they moved against his…he caught a strand of hair with his index finger…he didn't even wince at the pressure against his ribcage…

Hermione's head snapped back suddenly without warning, and she broke the kiss as if he'd zapped her with an electrical shock. She let him go and took three steps back away from him, her eyes wide in horror. She lifted her hand slowly and touched her lips, as if unable to believe what had just happened.

Ron was breathing as heavily as she was. He took a step toward her and held a hand out. "Hermione…"

Hermione shook her head and backed up even more. She looked around in shock and, with one last look at him, turned on her heel and raced out of the room.

* * *

A/N - 'bows to R/Hr shippers applause' Heh, only kidding! I told you it wasn't far away. Hopefully you weren't disappointed by it! I'm interested to hear your opinions on the Draco/Tonks situation too. Think I'm being wonderfully stupid with the whole idea? Think it's bold and brassy and original? Do let me know!

Please review!


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32!

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Harry was sick of going down to the dining room for every purpose but eating.

It didn't even really resemble much of a dining room anymore. The entire table was covered with open books, scattered pieces of parchment with notes and diagrams on them, maps of London, lists and other pieces of the disheveled jigsaw they'd been slowly putting together. It irritated him sometimes to look at all the work they'd done. The other side had it so easy. They didn't have to spend hours and hours researching. They didn't lay awake at night, on edge, wondering when the next attack was going to be and if they'd come out of it alive. They didn't wake up in a cold sweat, ripped from dreams of death and disaster. They didn't wake up in the morning, wondering if today was the day their luck had finally run out. It was unfair that they had such little care for anything.

But that, Harry knew, is what separated him from them. He _did_ care.

Predictably, as he entered the dining room, he found Hermione going over notes again. Her hair was up in that messy bun she would create when she was feeling particularly harassed about something and just wanted her bushy locks out of the way. She had a harsh, intense look about her as she paced around the table slowly, her eyes glossing over two sheets of parchment in either hand. This was normally the way she would behave when she was irritated by a particularly difficult problem that she couldn't solve within the first five minutes of starting to unravel it, but if Harry didn't know her better he would have guessed her intensity to be caused from something other than Horcruxes.

He scratched his chest lazily and watched her walk around the table with a quirked eyebrow. "So, did you pull another all-nighter, or do you just find changing clothes everyday to be a little too cliché?'

Hermione stopped by the fireplace and looked up at him, her brow knotted together and her eyes bloodshot. "What?"

Harry gestured to her. "You were wearing that yesterday."

"No…yes…I didn't go home." She snapped, going back to her reading.

"Then why do you even still live there?' he asked, dodging past her to get to the table. He moved a box from a chair and sat himself down in it. 'Why don't you just move in here officially when you're here all the time anyway?"

"I told you why.' She said shortly, stopping behind the chair opposite him.

"And _I_ told _you_ it wasn't necessary.' He said, trying to engage her properly. 'We can protect your family…use the Fidelus Charm…use _something_…"

She slammed her notes down on the table. "Look, I told you I didn't want to!' she snapped. 'That should be good enough for you!"

Harry blinked. "What's got your knickers in a twist, then?"

"Nothing.' She muttered, sitting down heavily.

"Well, why are you in such a strop?"

"I am _not_ in a _strop_!' she cried, glaring at him.

Harry just looked at her, eyebrows raised. Hermione was good at a great many things, but lying wasn't really one of them. She'd looked away from him again and was looking down at the notes, but not really reading them. Harry could tell, because her eyes weren't moving. She was just staring at them with red eyes and he could almost see the thoughts bouncing violently around in her head as she thought about everything but the task she was trying to focus on. He didn't know what could have happened to get her so upset. It had been three days now since Ron got hurt and he was all better now, as was her own arm and Harry's various cuts and scrapes. Was it the research? Something with her parents? Had _he_ done something wrong? Only one way to find out…

He swung his feet up onto the table and picked up the closest book, opening it and turning its pages absentmindedly. "Hermione…are you alright?"

"Hmm?' she hummed, looking up at him, confused. 'Oh, yes…I'm perfectly fine…"

"Are you sure?"

"Well, most people call me 'Hermione', but 'Sure' will work too, I suppose. Be easier for Viktor to pronounce at any rate." She added under her breath.

Harry looked at her.

After a short pause, Hermione looked up to find him watching her with that knowing expression. She rolled her eyes. "Must you look at me like that?"

"Sadly I fear I do.' He said, folding his arms over his chest. 'Come on; tell me what's going on. I need a little gossip to brighten my day. It's hard to find juicy gossip that's got nothing to do with me."

"It wouldn't interest you."

"Try me."

Hermione sighed, rubbed her jaw and seemed to turn a light shade of pink. She didn't say anything for a long moment, just looked around awkwardly, as if hoping for a topic to jump out at her and offer itself as a distraction from Harry's probing gaze.

He laughed and adjusted his glasses. "Can I guess?"

"You won't be right, but if it pleases you…"

"Is it about Horcruxes?"

"For once, no."

"Okay…is it your folks? Are they in some sort of trouble?"

"No, it's nothing to do with my parents."

"Alright…er…have _I_ done something wrong? Because I _swear_ I put the seat back down now…Mum's been training me…"

"No!' she laughed, waving her hands.

Harry laughed and shrugged. "Well, I'm out of options!"

"You're a terrible guesser, you know."

"Yeah, no-one ever wanted to play Charades with me at school.' He grinned. 'Come on, Hermione, just _tell_ me would you? It would ease my suffering."

Hermione finally gave up on her attempts to look otherwise occupied, put the pages of notes down and sat back in her seat with a slump. She looked tired and disturbingly uncertain about something. Uncertainty and confusion were not expressions Harry was accustomed to seeing on her face, and it unnerved him. Didn't she know everything about everything by now? What in the world was left for her to be confused about?

She cleared her throat, looking awkward. "Have…have you spoken to Ron? Lately? At all?"

"I saw him in the hall this morning,' said Harry, remembering, 'he'd cut his lip shaving."

"Have you talked about…anything else?"

"Er…he left the toilet seat up."

Hermione sighed irritably.

"Well we're _blokes_, Hermione!' laughed Harry defensively. 'What do you expect us to talk about? Leg waxing? Period pain? The inability of men to commit?"

"No, but it's nice to know what you and Ginny talk about.' She said, smirking.

Harry laughed and flipped her the bird. "What's this really about, Hermione? Has something happened with you and Ron? Oh, bollocks…have you had another fight?"

"What makes you ask that?' she asked, blushing, remembering how soft Ron's lips had been when they'd done the complete opposite of bicker and fight.

"Well, you haven't really seen him much in the past few days.' Said Harry. 'Every time he walks into the room, you walk right out. You don't come down for dinner with us anymore, you leave early at night, you don't study with us down here when Ron's in the room…shall I go on?"

"Please don't,' she said, 'there's enough gas putting a hole in the Ozone layer without you adding to it."

"So it _is_ about Ron then?' he asked, arching his eyebrows almost mockingly.

Hermione pursed her lips and rested her arms on the table, linking her fingers together. She picked at her cuticles, a habit she'd been under the impression she'd finally extinguished, and blushed just because of the mental pre-rehearsal of what she was going to say next. "Do you and…that is…does…' she grunted irritably at herself and her lack of articulation before starting again. "Does Ron ever talk to you about…anyone in particular?"

Harry's dark eyebrows arched upward even more. Hermione was blushing to the roots of her brown hair, her eyes determinedly looking at her hands. Daft as he was sometimes, he knew that look, and he finally understood everything that had been happening. So they hadn't fought after all…

"Oh, well, er…' he stammered, wondering how best to break this to her. 'Actually…he doesn't…no, not really."

"Oh.' Was all she said.

Harry resisted the urge to hit himself in the forehead with the large book that was resting in his lap. He knew he'd upset her. She had gone back to reading, but he could tell she was hurt by his answer. Dammit, wasn't that what girls wanted? The truth? Weren't they meant to be appreciative of a bloke's honesty? There needed to be courses run in the wants and needs of the female race for men to take, updated every few months. How was he meant to keep up?

He put his feet back on the floor and put the book on the table, resting his elbows on it. "But, that doesn't mean he doesn't think about anyone in particular,' he said casually, hoping to God he could rectify this before he destroyed it completely. 'Its not that he doesn't feel anything, it's just the way he is. We don't really talk to one another about girl stuff – we never have. He didn't even talk to me about Lavender…not really…'

"He didn't?' she asked, looking a little better.

"Nah, not really.' Said Harry. 'Look, in my opinion there's two reasons why he doesn't talk to me about 'anyone in particular'. One, because its probably too sodding embarrassing for him, and two…because he probably feels so strongly about this person in particular that he doesn't even have the words to express it."

He had Hermione's full attention now. She looked at him, feeling her eyes prickling up. She'd always hoped something like this would happen, hoped but never expected at the risk of being disappointed.

She rubbed her eyes and sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "You really think that?"

Harry shrugged. "Only one way to find out. In my opinion, I think that if 'anyone in particular' were curious about it, they should go talk to _him_, not sit here trying to forget about it."

Hermione just looked at him, fully aware of the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Harry sighed happily and opened the book to a random page, pretending to be intensely interested in its contents. "But…that's just _my_ opinion. What do _I_ know, eh?"

Again for not the first time in recent weeks, Hermione was left with nothing to say. She scratched the pad of her forefinger softly against the corner of the nearest book, her mind unusually blank. She wasn't so accustomed to being so confused. Though it varied in lengths of time, normally everything seemed to naturally be able to fall into place in the end. But it had been three days now since she'd kissed Ron, her best friend Ron, and still she had no idea what to make of it. So, for lack of any other solution she found herself doing something she'd never really done before.

She took Harry's advice.

She got to her feet, piled her arms up with books and looked down at Harry. "I'll be upstairs."

Harry looked up from his book and nodded. "Okay."

And with a CRACK, she disappeared.

Harry shook his head hopelessly and got to his feet as well. He knew she'd apparated out so she didn't risk running into 'anyone in particular' on the way upstairs. He put his book down, shoved his hands in his pockets and casually made his way upstairs as well. Deep down he'd always thought it would come to this. That the two of them would finally cross that line, whether they cross it voluntarily or be violently pushed, and that they'd get scared and run away from each other in opposite directions as fast as they could. And Harry had also known that the only two who could shove them back together again, was him.

He found him in his room, sitting at the small table by his wardrobe locked in a fierce chess game against himself. Ron was seated toward him, fingers linked under his chin as he stared down at the chessboard with an intense gaze. Chess was one of the few, if not only times, that Harry ever saw Ron look so focused. His eyes hardened, his brow knotted together slightly and his shoulders stiffened, and it was a vibe that everyone knew meant that this was a man who wasn't to be trifled with. That this was a man who _knew_ what he was doing.

Harry knocked on the open door. "Hey."

Ron looked up at Harry and his expression instantly softened. "Hey."

"Can I have a word?"

"Have a sentence, even.' Said Ron, sitting back in his chair.

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. "I want to talk to you about Hermione."

"What about Hermione?"

"She's waiting for you, mate."

"Waiting for me?' he asked, puzzled. 'I didn't even know I was meant to meet her! She didn't tell me we were going anywhere…"

"No, Ron…' said Harry, flapping his hands as Ron got to his feet. 'That's not what I meant. She's _waiting_ for you."

Ron's eyes widened as realization dawned on him. He looked at Harry in a sort of silent panic for a moment, before flopping back into his chair. He looked back down at the chessboard and ran his large hands through his flaming red hair with a shaky, harassed motion.

He looked back up at Harry after a long moment. "What did she tell you?"

"She didn't tell me anything. And you know what? She didn't bloody have to." Harry sat down opposite Ron and folded his arms over his chest. 'What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on.' Said Ron, looking away.

Harry sighed and, again, resisted the urge to hit his head against a hard surface. "Okay, look, I'm not daft; I can see that this is a sensitive subject and the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable, but…I'm your best friend, Ron. This has been going on for nearly four years now. Don't you think it's about time you just _admit_ it to me? It's not like I don't already know anyway."

Ron fidgeted and went a light shade of pink. "I just…its…I'm…' he stuttered and shook his head hopelessly. 'I think its too late now."

"Bollocks,' said Harry insistently. 'Just _tell_ me, would you?"

"I…' he paused, took a few slow breaths and sighed. 'Yeah, alright…I… I like her, okay? More than a friend. Much more."

Harry grinned smugly. It was quite the momentous occasion, even if he'd only uttered it in three simple words.

Ron was flushed a bright red, but through his embarrassment Harry could see he was a little relieved. He shook his head and smiled. "I'm a total goner now. It was alright when I didn't say anything, but now…"

"Admitting it is the hard part, I reckon."

"You won't tell her, will you?"

"I haven't in the past, why would I now?' chuckled Harry. 'Besides, it's not my place. _You_ should tell her."

"Ho, no way!' laughed Ron, waving his hands madly. 'I don't say things like that to girls – I always wait for them to make the first move."

"How twentieth century of you.' Said Harry. 'What insane reason do you do _that_ for?"

"Well, 'cause you never know if a girl's going to say yes or if she's going to laugh in your face and pull out your still-beating heart and crush it into the ground with her heel."

Harry shook his head and smiled. "Hermione wouldn't do that."

"The hell she wouldn't."

"She _wouldn't_! And, you know, it really isn't that hard of a thing to do. I took the first step with Ginny…you think I wasn't packing myself at the time?"

Ron gave him a look. "That's a different situation. First, it was almost a sure thing that Ginny would snog you back, seen as its all she's wanted to do since she was ten. And second…Ginny wasn't one of your best friends."

"She is now.' Said Harry, raising his eyebrows. 'So it's pretty much the same situation."

"No it bloody well isn't!' cried Ron, looking horrified. 'This isn't like it would be with any other bird, this is… I mean, its…it's…its _Hermione_! My best friend Hermione! Hermione, girl I was friends with when it was still gross to _be_ friends with girls. Hermione, who we knew before she even had boobs…a time I try to block out because, personally, I prefer her _post_-puberty…"

Harry laughed, surprised to hear Ron talking about Hermione like this. "Then it should be simple!"

"No, it isn't. It's harder than anything I've ever had to do." He said, shaking his head.

Harry ruffled his hair. "Like you said, it's Hermione. You know her better than anyone. You know you can tell her how you feel after…whatever the bloody hell it is that's happened between the two of you to shake things up so much."

Ron shifted again. "I like her so much that sometimes it's scary. I didn't think I would ever feel this way about anyone. I didn't even think I _could_."

"You've had so many opportunities over the past, you daft sod.' Said Harry not unkindly. 'Even _I_ could see the openings she was giving you. Why didn't you just take a shot?"

"Because…' he paused and looked out into the space of his room. 'Because I didn't think I'd ever have a chance with her."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because I'm always standing next to you.' Said Ron softly.

Harry blinked, quite unsure of how to handle something like that. "Wait…what? What are you talking about?"

Ron smiled wryly. "Come on, Harry…as far as log shadows do you're the dark side of the moon."

"But, I'm…' he spluttered, shocked at what he was hearing.

"I know it's not your fault, and I don't want to make you feel weird about it,' said Ron sincerely, 'but you don't know what its like. To be the best friend of a hero…to always have to walk a step behind…'

'Ron…' said Harry, appalled.

"Don't get me wrong, Harry, it's not a bad place to be.' Said Ron. 'I'd follow you anywhere; I'd stand with you at the gates of hell – you know that. But I don't ever seem to measure up to everyone, and to Hermione…"

"Hermione doesn't like me like that!' protested Harry. 'Not the way she likes you!"

Ron shrugged and didn't say anything.

Harry rubbed his arms, feeling very awkward. He knew Ron had his issues with their friendship and always had, but he didn't know it affected him like this. Obviously Ron wasn't aware of just how important he really was. And just how had they gotten onto this subject anyway? Harry was meant to be putting Ron and Hermione together, not putting a rift between Ron and him!

Harry put the issue aside for the moment and refocused his attention. "Look...just go talk to her, would you?"

Ron groaned and put a hand over his face. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, you pansy, you _do_!"

"I'll make a right prat out of myself."

"Nothing she hasn't seen before.'

Ron smirked at him.

Harry smiled and got to his feet. "Just _go_, will you? This is the biggest opportunity you've ever had…don't bollocks it up like you have in the past. She's waiting for you…"

"Yeah, I know,' he said, rolling his eyes, 'and she won't wait forever, right?"

"Actually, for you…I think she would.' Said Harry. 'Trust me, Ron, the worst way to miss someone is to stand right next to them and know you can't have them. Don't miss this chance."

Ron looked back down at his chessboard as Harry left. He mused that the past seven years had been like a little chess game he and Hermione had been playing that, until the other day, none of them had had the guts to 'check' the other. She had checked him the other day…now it was his turn to respond…

"Okay…' he muttered, tapping his palms on the armrests of his chair, '…here we go…get up you ponce…"

Slowly, he pulled himself up out of the chair and made his way out of the room one step at a time. He knew where she'd be; she was hardly found anywhere else lately. As he made his way upstairs, he didn't hear piano and felt disappointed by that. He'd rather been looking forward to hearing her play again.

And he'd made it all the way up to her door before apprehension suddenly settled heavily in his chest.

Ron rubbed his hands together, trying to piece together the scattered, tiny fragments of courage he had and mould into a useable force. There wasn't anything in the world that could have prepared him for this; prepared him for the moment when he finally told his best friend how much he really did care about her. That it went far beyond the bounds of platonic. He didn't hear any noise coming from the room, which meant she was probably studying.

Taking a few deep breaths, he opened the door inward and took a step inside.

Lately, her study had begun to resemble Flourish and Blotts. Books were stacked in crooked rows and had to be being held up with magic, for gravity wasn't normally so generous. She was sitting at the desk, facing him, her elbows propped up on the table and her chin sitting in the heel of her hand. She was reading another predictably large volume that looked older than the Great Wall of China, her finger running along the words as she read. She looked a little gaunt and very tired, and she even looked as if she'd lost weight. The image made him shudder involuntary, not out of disgust but out of concern.

He knocked on the open door. "Hey."

Hermione looked up from her book and froze. She sat up slowly, her finger still frozen in place mid-sentence. The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her lips nervously. "Oh…hello."

And that's where the conversation stopped. Ron wished he was one of those people who always had something smart or witty to say, but all he probably would have been able to say had he dared to open his mouth would have been a few vowel noises. And Hermione, who was normally both of these things, seemed to have lost her ability to form a sentence.

Ron took another step into the room and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Er…you're…what are you doing?"

"Studying."

"What?"

"Horcruxes."

"Oh…cool…"

Another long, awkward pause.

Ron shrugged his shoulders awkwardly, wishing Harry was there to break the ice like he always could when it was like this between them. "You know, you could take some of them home with you. You could read them in bed or something…"

"If I read them in bed I'd fall asleep.' Said Hermione. 'I concentrate better here anyway. Something about the atmosphere focuses me."

"Like you'd have problems focusing.' He laughed, closing the distance between him and the desk she was sitting behind.

"I have the past few days." She muttered, looking back down at her book.

Ron chewed on his lips and he drummed the tips of his fingers on the desk. "And yet, you still push through...for the children…"

Hermione cracked a smile. "Hours of endless research for an ungrateful society who believe the tripe written about their hero in the papers. Sometimes I really wonder why I waste my time."

It took Ron a long moment to realize that Hermione was joking.

She sat back in her chair with a sigh and rubbed her eyes. "I've more than fulfilled my sidekick criteria – I deserve a medal."

"Or a Turkey Roll. You look like a corpse."

"I do not look like a corpse. And Corpses don't eat Turkey Rolls!"

"Maybe you would. You could be a Turkey Roll eating zombie!"

Hermione laughed, a proper laugh, and got to her feet. "Don't ever change, Ron."

Ron smiled and watched her as she stacked up the book she had been reading and grabbed another. "Well, that was the original plan…but Mum couldn't wash my clothes with me still in them…"

"How is it you have an endless supply of sarcasm, yet barely any concentration?' she asked, quirking an eyebrow in his direction as she sat down again.

"Weasley trait,' Said Ron, sitting down in the chair opposite her. 'Probably why we all still think Percy is adopted and that the red hair is just a coincidence."

Hermione rolled her eyes and opened her book to where it had been bookmarked. "If only you could put that energy to something useful."

"Like what?"

"Like helping me read this.' She said, tapping her book.

Ron leaned forward. This isn't what he had wanted to talk about with her, not even close; but it would do. This was the first time they'd said more than two words to one another in almost four days, and he was relieved to be able to sit with her and have a legitimate reason to look at her. It was better than the awkwardness they'd been wading in before.

"What is it?' he asked.

"It has portraits of the Founders, but most of the information I need is either too small, smudged or in a different language.' She looked up at him. 'How's your Latin?"

"Not as good as my Italian…which I don't speak."

Hermione smiled. "Point taken."

Ron sat back in his seat. "Sorry…bit useless, aren't I?"

"No, of course you're not. Don't be silly."

"Want me to read it anyway?"

"No, its fine."

"Want me to leave you alone?"

"No, stay."

They were silent for a long time after that, and Hermione knew he was still watching her, even though she was pretending to read. There was so much both of them had to say, and yet they were skirting around each other as they had always done. It was like they hoped if they just didn't acknowledge the fact that something had happened then maybe it would all go away. That maybe they could go back to the way things were before; friends, predictable, safe. But they couldn't really do that. Hermione knew she didn't want to, and she hoped he didn't either.

She sighed, not looking up from her book. "I'm sorry I kissed you." She said finally, her voice barely audible.

Ron blinked and looked at her, surprised. "I'm not."

Hermione looked up at him, her face full of worry and uncertainty. Ron leant his elbows on the table and reached out to take her hand, but stopped inches away, unsure. Knowing what it was he wanted, Hermione reached out and took his hands, linking her fingers with his. The two of them had never really been very physical with one another in the past, sharing the occasional hug or chaste kiss on the cheek, but this was more than platonic touch. It was soft, and it was tender, and it was almost so needy that it hurt.

He was flinching against her, almost as if he were afraid his big hands were holding hers wrongly. She stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. "I'm sorry I ran out like that. I was just…just upset and…confused…and I didn't…"

"I should have followed you.' He said, looking down at their joined hands in wonder.

"I shouldn't have gotten so emotional.' She said, trying to catch his eye. 'Its just…seeing you like that was…it was so _hard_. It sucked the wind right out of my lungs to see you so badly hurt."

Ron nodded. "I'm sorry too. What I did…it was stupid and reckless…"

"Yes, yes it was.' She said, nodding.

They looked at one another and laughed.

Ron sighed and looked at her with a dreamy expression. "How did this happen to us? Whatever '_this'_ is…"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. But I think it's been around us for a while, we just haven't really acknowledged it. It's always been different for me with you than it has been with Harry."

"Well, Harry isn't as dazzlingly handsome as I am…its understandable…'

"Ron, I'm serious! Haven't you ever felt like that?"

"Well, Harry isn't exactly my bag of chips…"

Hermione threw him a look.

Ron sobered up. He got to his feet, pulling her up with him also and moved around the desk so that he was now leaning up against it and she was standing right in front of him, pressed together at the hips.

Hermione, not normally one to be so wanton with boys, put her hands on his sides, wanting to wrap her arms around him but resisting the urge. Now that all this was out in the open, it was like the floodgates had been violently swung open. All the times she'd wanted to touch him like this, hold him like this, be close to him like this that had built up over the years, all those wants and urges were now allowed to come out. It was finally the appropriate time to be physical with him without him backing away or freaking out.

She took her hands away from his sides and linked her fingers with his again, deciding that she liked it when they held hands. "We…we can't go back from this now, can we?"

"Do you even want to?"

"I don't know…no…I'm just…' she paused. 'I don't know what will happen."

"Isn't that what this is all about?' he asked. 'Taking the risk?"

"Is it worth is to put something so fragile on the line?' she asked softly. 'Once we take that step forward there's no going back to the way it was. This could ruin us, Ron. If this doesn't work…I don't know if I could handle loosing you all together…"

Ron looked at her hopefully. "I think it's worth the risk. I think _you're_ worth the risk."

Hermione bit her lip, and Ron understood. _This_ is why she had run off after she had kissed him. She'd over-thought the situation, analyzed it so quickly and so deeply that it had confused her – and if there was one thing Hermione hated, it was being confused. She wanted it, but she was scared. So was he.

"We've had seven years of friendship with that nagging feeling underneath it. Maybe, all this time, it's been telling us that it's okay to take that step.' He said, hoping to convince her. 'That maybe we're meant to be something more that just friends."

"But what if that all we're really meant to be? Friends?' she asked, her tone full of doubt. 'What if we're just fooling ourselves into thinking we'll ever be something more?"

"And what if we're not?' he countered, raising his eyebrows. 'Hermione, listen, if there's one thing that I've always known is that you and I aren't meant to be without one another. Every time we've fought, every time we've thought that it's over between us, that our relationship…whatever the hell it was…was beyond repair, we've always manage to come back. I mean, look at us! We can barely go a few days anymore without coming back to one another."

Hermione smiled and looked down at their hands.

Ron squeezed her hands. "I don't want to have finally gotten to this point without seeing just how far we can actually go. Its fast and its come out of no-where, I know…but I want this. I want this more than I've ever wanted anything. I…I want _you_…' he paused, trying not to get carried away. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 'I want this, and I'm glad that you finally know that. But if you're not ready then I'll…I'll understand."

"You will?"

"Well…I'll try."

Hermione smiled up at him. "Ron, I don't want you to think I don't want this…don't want you…because I do!"

Ron smiled, feeling such elation he felt that the only thing anchoring him to the floor was Hermione's grip on his hand. He'd imagined hearing her say those words to him for years now, and he was pleased to discover that reality was far better than his dreams.

"Then why do I feel a 'but' coming on?"

Hermione sighed and opened her mouth to say something, when…

BOOM!

Ron and Hermione both jumped apart, clamped their eyes shut and put their hands over their ears as the deafening baritone of dozens and dozens of keys being slammed echoed through the room. They coughed and opened their eyes, waving the dust away from their faces as the tone began to lessen and lessen. They looked around to look for what had caused such a horrible noise, and it didn't take them even half a second before they found it.

The beautiful, Grand Piano that Hermione had spent hours playing was now snapped in half, its two separated ends leaning inverted toward each other. Keys lay everywhere, cracked or completely snapped in two, the strings were cut in half and lay coiled, spiraling upward. Dust was settling over the black body of it, and the humming tone was now a dull ringing in their ears.

Hermione and Ron looked back at one another, their chests heaving as they tried to catch their breaths from the surprise, eyes wide with shock.

Ron blinked and frowned. "Did you…"

"No, I didn't.' gasped Hermione, shaking her head. "Did you?"

"No, I didn't." said Ron, looking as puzzled as he sounded.

They looked at each other again, and it dawned.

"Harry.' Said Ron, looking around at the door. Hermione ran around him, headed for the door, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. 'Wait, hold on!"

"_Hold on_?' said Hermione, amazed. 'The only reason Harry would make anything like this happen is because he's either very angry or very upset about something. We have to make sure he's alright, Ron!"

"Yeah, we do…' he said, stepping in front of her as she made to move. 'But we don't want to get caught in the crossfire of that magic, do we? Need I remind you of what happened to his Aunt four years ago? You won't be much help to him flying a hundred meters in the air over Salisbury!"

"He wouldn't do that."

"He just blew up a Piano!"

They looked around at the sound of something smashing downstairs.

"Ron, come _on_,' she said, taking his hands again, 'if he gets fired up the only one who can cut him off is you. The testosterone charge he gets on…I don't have the strength…"

"And I don't have the strength to see you getting hurt."

"If we don't go _he's_ going to get hurt!"

CRACK. The windowpane cracked open, letting in the cold November air.

Ron pursed his lips and looked down at Hermione's worried expression, knowing she was as concerned about Harry as he was. "Alright…but _I_ go first."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she followed him out of the room. "Typical."

They made their way down stairs quickly but cautiously. As they neared the lower floors they could hear the feint sound of voices from the dining room. Ron drew himself up, ready for whatever horror Harry was going through only because of Hermione's hand in his. They went down the stairs slowly and Ron hesitated on the bottom step, surprised when he heard Tonks's voice.

"Harry, please calm down…you're going to bring the whole hose down around you…"

"It's pretty easy to say 'calm down' from your side of the room, isn't it Tonks?' said Harry.

Ron flinched at the tone. It was deadly low and dangerous.

"I understand this is a lot to take in…"

"No, finding out that I was a wizard, _that_ was a lot to take in. Finding out that I had to kill Voldemort because no-one could, _that_ was a lot to take in. This…this is un-take-in-able!"

"I know it seems that way now, but if you'd just let me explain…"

"I don't want an explanation, I want him _OUT_!"

Ron frowned and looked at Hermione. She shrugged, clearly as puzzled as he was. So, with nothing but curiosity pushing him forward, Ron led Hermione into the room properly by the hand. "Harry, what's going…'

But he didn't finish, for his eyes had just clapped eyes on what was happening.

Hermione's mouth fell open so wide it was almost comical. She frowned, completely in denial at what she was seeing. Draco Malfoy was standing in their kitchen, looking a little worse for ware. His blonde hair had grown and fell into his grey eyes. He was dressed in plain, second hand Muggle clothing. He had his hands in his pockets and was looking at Harry across from him with an almost lazy expression, as if being there was interrupting his plans for a relaxing afternoon in London. Tonks was standing beside him, her hands up in front of her defensively as she looked at Harry as if he were a nuclear bomb about to go off. Harry was standing just a few feet from her, completely rigid, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Even though he was not facing her and even though she could not see his face, she could tell how furious he was.

Ron fired up, letting go of her hand and moving to stand beside Harry. "What the hell is _HE_ doing here? Tonks, get away from him!"

"Oh no, Ron, didn't you hear?' said Harry, his tone dripping with disdain, 'Malfoy's _living_ with Tonks now."

"He's _WHAT_?' cried Ron, gobsmacked.

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "Did he stutter?"

Tonks hit him in the chest. "Will you _shut up_? For once in your bloody life…"

"Is this true?' demanded Hermione, storming forward. 'Tonks, _please_ tell me Harry's misunderstood you!"

Tonks looked at the three of them hesitantly. She knew there was no way this was going to go smoothly. She'd known that the first time the idea of brining Draco to Grimmauld Place had popped into her head. She sighed and ran a hand through her pink hair. "Yes, Hermione, it's true. Draco's been living with me for the past few months."

"_WHAT_?' cried Ron again as Hermione put a hand over her mouth in disgust.

"Honestly, Weasley, are you that hard of hearing?' drawled Draco.

"Ron, don't!' said Hermione, stepping in front of Ron and putting a hand on his chest to stop him as he made for Draco.

At the same time, Tonks whirled around, took Draco by the shoulders and shoved him backward. "I swear to God, Satan and anyone else out there with a higher power, if you do not _shut up_ with the sarcastic comments I'm going to smack you down myself. Or better yet, I'll let Harry do it."

"Potter couldn't push over a tower of cards.' Muttered Draco, glancing over at the trio. Hermione was still trying to hold back Ron while trying to talk to Harry, but Harry wasn't listening to her. He was glaring right at Draco, still standing as if petrified, his green eyes narrowed dangerously as if the only thing keeping him from attacking Draco was the fact that Tonks stood between them. He smirked, pleased that he was so angry and yet could do nothing about it.

"I can't convince them to let you stay if you keep acting like an ass.' She whispered harshly, looking up at him warningly.

"Good,' said Draco lazily, his eyes narrowing back at Harry. 'I don't want to stay here. Send me to the stables…Lupin's closet…anywhere but here."

"You're safest here.' She said softly.

Draco looked down at her. He pressed his lips into a thin line. "Why do you care so much?"

Tonks sighed and rubbed her eyes. "If I knew the answer to that…'

"What's the deal here, Tonks?' came Ron's demanding voice, cutting through them. Tonks looked around to see Ron had come over, looking at her accusingly and Draco behind her with a hatred she didn't think kids were capable of possessing. 'How you could…how is…I don't…"

"My, he _is_ articulate, isn't he?' muttered Draco.

Tonks ignored him. "As I was trying to tell Harry…"

"You were _trying_,' said Harry, folding his arms over his chest. 'I think I vaguely remember telling you to shove your explanations up your ass."

"Shut your mouth, Potter!' spat Draco, startling everyone including himself. He blinked and tried to pretend he didn't notice Tonks looking up at him in amazement. 'I mean, er…that is…'

"My, he _is_ articulate, isn't he?' jeered Ron smugly.

Draco's cheeks flushed pink.

"Honestly, you three!' snapped Hermione. 'I'm sure Tonks has a good reason for keeping Malfoy with her instead of throwing his scummy backside into Azkaban where he belongs…' she trailed off, throwing Draco a look to show what she really thought of him.

"She might as well put up Snape too.' Said Harry, taking a few steps toward Tonks. 'Is this a new Auror strategy, Tonks? Take in Death Eaters and see if we can steer them back onto the path of good?"

"It's not like that.' Said Tonks, her eyes narrowing.

"The hell it isn't."

"It's different! Snape _killed_ Dumbledore!

"SO DID HE!" roared Harry, pointing angrily at Draco.

Something else smashed upstairs, and a deafening silence followed his outburst. Harry was breathing heavily. His eyes were blazing and the air around him was almost pulsating with raw magic. Ron stood just behind Harry, looking as furious as best friend and as if it had been him who had shouted. Hermione was looking at Tonks, as if not quite sure who it was she was anymore. Draco said nothing for once, just stiffened and squared his shoulders.

Tonks's shoulders seemed to slump. "Yes, I know. He did."

Harry shook his head disbelievingly and began to pace. "I don't get you, Tonks. I just don't _get_ you! I _never_ would have figured you for the type to make family allegiances. I never would have guessed that you'd do this for someone just because they share blood with you! I thought you were better than that! Blood doesn't make you family…I thought you knew that…you're one of the people who _taught_ me that…'

"I didn't do it because he'd my cousin,' said Tonks. 'Well, not completely."

"Then why _did_ you?' demanded Harry, throwing his hands up in the air. 'This is as good as treachery! You can't straddle the line here; you can't have alliances on both sides. You have to pick a side, good or evil, that's the way it works! There _is_ no in-between!"

"Life isn't always so black and white, Harry.' Said Tonks.

"Sometimes it is.' He retorted. He glanced at Draco, shook his head and began to pace again.

Tonks opened her mouth to speak, but didn't even get the chance to utter the first syllable when the door banged open and someone walked in with a determined stride.

"Okay people, get out of my way! I've spent the last four hours behind a counter and I need a pint of orange juice! Try and stop me and you shall promptly be removed from existence. Hello, gorgeous person." Lily, who had walked straight over to Harry, kissed him on the cheek before she realized something was wrong. She frowned at him when he didn't even respond, and looked to see what it was he was glaring at. She blinked as she spotted Tonks with a tall, good-looking boy behind her. She smiled at him, surprised. "Oh…hello."

Draco didn't say anything. His normally closed expression was molded into one of complete shock. His grey eyes were as wide open as his mouth, and all he could do was stare at the woman standing beside Harry, knowing exactly who she was.

Lily patted Harry softly in the chest with the back of her hand. "Who's this?"

Harry pursed his lips, too angry to be horrified that Draco Malfoy had just found out about his mother. "Draco Malfoy."

Lily's curious smile faded. Her emerald eyes narrowed at the boy for a moment, before she laughed. "I'm sorry; I thought you just said this was Draco Malfoy."

"It _is_ Draco Malfoy.' Said Harry through gritted teeth.

"But, how…' blinked Lily, grasping for an explanation. She pointed at Tonks, putting two and two together. 'What's he doing here? Tonks, did you bring him here?"

Tonks nodded. "Yes."

"What the hell for? Why didn't you take him to Azkaban?' demanded Lily.

"Tonks wants him to stay with us.' Said Harry, deadpan, glaring at Draco who was still boggling at his mother in utter astonishment.

"_Stay with us_?' cried Hermione, outraged. 'Tonks, you can't be _serious_!"

"Disturbingly enough I think she is.' Said Ron.

Tonks ignored them all, focused solely on Harry. He looked simply livid, his jaw set and his shoulders squared. If there was any way to break through his steely wall of stubbornness, she didn't yet know how.

"Harry, please…can I talk to you about this? Alone?"

"There's nothing to talk about.' Said Harry, his tone final. 'You brought him here, and you take him away again. I don't want him here. I don't want him alive."

Tonks flinched. "Harry, please…"

But Harry didn't hear anymore. With one final glare at Draco, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, vases smashing in his wake.

"Lily, please…' said Tonks desperately, turning to her new friend. 'All I want is for him to hear me out. _Please_."

Lily chewed on the inside of her cheek, looking at Draco cautiously.

"Don't worry,' said Hermione, pulling her wand out of her pocket. 'We'll watch him."

"I really don't think…' started Lily.

"He hasn't got a wand.' Said Tonks. 'He hasn't got anything that's a threat to you. Only his voice."

Lily pursed her lips, torn between the urge to stay and the need to follow the sounds of things breaking that was her son in pain. She looked at Hermione. "If you need _anything_… you call me."

Hermione nodded and gripped her wand tightly. "We got it."

Lily nodded, patted Ron encouragingly on the shoulder and looked at Draco. He was still staring at her in horror and shock. Lily smirked at him, knowing he knew full well who she really was. "What's wrong, _Draco_? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Draco swallowed and seemed to snap out of his dreamlike state.

"Come on.' She said to Tonks. Without looking at her, she turned and headed off out of the room in the direction her son had gone.

Tonks bit her lip, shivered as if she were cold and followed, leaving Ron and Hermione alone with Draco.

Draco folded his arms elegantly over his chest, trying to act as though nothing extraordinary had happened. Ron pulled his wand out of his pocket with a glare, fingering it almost wistfully. Hermione just mimicked Draco's gesture.

"Well, this isn't very hospitable service.' Said Draco, looking around in disgust. 'I've been here ten whole minutes and no-one has offered me a drink."

"I have a bottle of rat poison,' growled Ron, 'can I interest you in some?"

"Only if it's the kind your mother makes."

Ron clenched his jaw, walked right up to Draco and shoved him harshly in the chest. Draco stumbled backward and landed roughly in a chair, almost topping over. He waved his wand and Draco found himself magically bound to the chair, his hands stuck stiffly at his side.

"Have a seat.' Said Ron smugly, drawing himself up to his full height.

Draco pursed his lips. "Excellent. I get stuck with the _minions_."

"That's _sidekicks_ to you.' Said Ron. 'And if I were in your position, I'd be careful not to tick them off…especially when they have wands and you don't."

"If you were my position, Weasley, I'd be a poor, fat-headed git."

"Ron, don't!' cried Hermione, grabbing Ron's arm as Ron raised his fist. She brought his arm down and turned him away from Draco and toward her. 'Please don't react. He's an idiot tied to a chair…if anyone's a git it's him."

Ron looked back at Draco and glared. "I hate you."

Draco smirked.

--------------------

Harry folded his arms over his chest as he listened to Tonks talk. He didn't want to listen; he didn't want to hear a word she had to say. He was furious at her, more furious than he thought he'd been in a long time, and all he wanted to do was have the satisfaction of beating Malfoy down just so he could see the bastard lying on the ground like Dumbledore had been months ago. He didn't want to hear her voice. He didn't want to look at her. What she had done was outrageous. It was treacherous and unthinkable and for her to stand there and try to defend what she was doing…

She'd been talking for ten minutes and he still wasn't the slightest bit convinced. He now knew how Draco had come to her, how she had made conditions upon his stay, how Remus knew about it, how she'd been trying for months to keep him safe, but he still didn't understand why.

"…can't have him with me anymore, Harry.' She was saying.

"You shouldn't have had him with you in the first place!' retorted Harry angrily, getting fired up again. 'Don't you even realize what you've done by letting him stay with you? How much you've risked?"

"Of course I know!' snapped Tonks. 'I'm not an idiot, Harry. I knew the risks the second I let him in the door! Why do you think I made him give me his wand? Made him give up his magic?"

"That makes you cautious, not smart.' Sneered Harry. He shook his head in disbelief and began to pace. 'I can't get over this, Tonks. And I don't think I actually ever will! The way you're acting, it's as thought you _care_ about him. As though you _trust_ him!"

"I don't trust him…'

"You don't? How did you get him to come here?"

"I…I told him he'd be safe here."

"Oh, you did? And what else have you been telling him?"

Tonks frowned. "Are you suggesting that I've been telling him about secret Order information, not to mention personal information about us? About _you_?"

Harry glared. "Would make pretty good table conversation, I bet."

"Harry, I am forever loyal to you and everything we stand for.' Said Tonks, her tone low. 'I haven't told him _anything_ and I don't ever intend to!"

"That doesn't change anything!' cried Harry, throwing his hands up in the air. 'How do you know he hasn't been spying behind your back? Telling the Death Eaters about us? How do you know they didn't send him to you? That this wasn't part of the massive plan, to get inside information?"

"I don't…'

'You think he's done exactly as you've been telling him?' shouted Harry, the distant sound of something else shattering a floor below following his voice. 'I bet you a hundred galleons he hasn't! Not having magic doesn't mean he can't do any damage to us or to you. You don't know him like I do. You have no idea what he's capable of!"

"And _you_ don't know him like _I_ do!' she retorted. 'What's happened with everything…he's changed. He's…he's _different_!"

"No, you _hope_ he's different! You _want_ him to be different!'

"I want to look for the good in him.' She admitted through grit teeth. 'I can't help the way I am. It's just me, and my infuriating optimism. I've tried so many times, but just as I go to give up I see something, something he says or he does, and it rekindles my hope."

Harry clenched his jaw. "There's less hope in him than there is good."

Tonks sighed. "That's your opinion, Harry. I don't hate you for yours, so please don't hate me for mine. There's no crime in looking for the good in people. I don't know, maybe I'm just setting myself up for a massive disappointment…'

Harry wanted to snap 'you are', but he kept his mouth shut.

'…but in these dark times I want to find something small to cling on to. Dumbledore did it every day of his life. He even believed in Snape, even when everyone tried to warn him; even when everyone thought he was a fool for doing so.'

"Yeah, Dumbledore believed in Snape,' said Harry softly, 'and look where it got him. It was a trust like that that got him killed. You think I want that to happen to us? To you?"

Tonks pursed her lips, well aware of the added strain she was putting on Harry's shoulders. He didn't need her coming at him with this heavy load completely out of the blue, and she couldn't help but feel more wretched about the whole situation.

Harry sighed and ruffled his hair. "You can't have him with you? I can't have him here either.' He said resolutely 'I don't want him here."

"Have you heard anything I've just told you?"

"Yes, I have, and it doesn't change my mind at all.' Said Harry, shrugging. 'I get your strategically reasons and I even sort of get your personal reasons, but _my_ person reasons aren't anything like yours. Malfoy and I…we have a history that there's no coming back from. His father tried to kill Hermione and Ginny. He's a spoilt, arrogant, evil son of a bitch and I don't want him or need him on my side."

"He's not a threat to you anymore.' She implored. 'He hasn't got a wand or any access to any spells…"

"And how do we know _you're_ not under some kind of spell?' asked Harry, arching his eyebrows. 'How do we know he hasn't got you under Imperious or some other kind of hex?"

"Because he doesn't. _Trust_ me, Harry…"

"My trust evaporated the second you apparated into my kitchen with _him_ on your arm.' Said Harry.

Tonks flinched, hurt by this but not surprised. "I understand that, but…'

"No! There _is_ no 'but' in this!' cried Harry, storming past his mother who had been sitting off to the side and closing the distance between Tonks and himself. 'I'm going to make this perfectly clear to you. Tonks – either _you_ take him to Azkaban or _I_ will."

"Harry…'

But again, she didn't get to finish, as Harry walked out of the room.

Tonks sighed and ran her fingers through her bright pink hair stressfully. Why had she gotten herself into this situation in the first place? Why had the even let Draco cross the threshold of her front door? Life would be so much simpler without him; without the burden he put on her shoulders.

She looked at Lily. She was sitting on top of the desk, her feet resting on the chair. She was watching her, pinching her chin thoughtfully with her thumb and forefinger. Her eyes were bright in the light from the fireplace, and the flames made her hair glow vibrantly. It seemed hard to believe sometimes that she had been dead for fifteen years. "Lily…"

"I don't know, Tonks.' She said softly.

"You don't know what?"

"Don't know anything about anything anymore.' She said. She leant forward and rested her elbows on her knees. 'Why did you bring him here?"

Tonks sighed, exasperated. 'Because I want him safe."

"Safe from what?' asked Lily. 'From us?"

"From _them_.' Said Tonks, needing to lean against something. She wished Remus was there to hold her hand. 'If the Death Eater's get their hands on him they'll kill him; it's not a question of 'if'. He failed them, and in their eyes betrayed them. He'll have no chance."

"And you think he'll have a chance against us?' asked Lily.

"I don't want him _against_ us; that's why I brought him here.' She said. 'I want him _with_ us. It's safer that way. He can't stay with me…if he was exposed…'

"Tonks, we have the entire Order of the Phoenix literally popping into our living room almost every day!' said Lily. 'You think he's going to be safer here? You think he won't be exposed?"

Tonks rubbed her eyes, feeling extremely tired. "All I want is him safe."

Lily pursed her lips. "Have you thought that maybe he might be safer in Azkaban?'

"He can't help us in Azkaban.' Said Tonks. 'He's the son of one of the most highly regarded Death Eaters You-know-who ever had! Think of the knowledge that boy has! On the Dark Arts, on his father, on the Dark Lord…'

"That's not your only reason for keeping him though, is it?' said Lily. It wasn't a question.

Tonks bowed her head. "I used to think it was."

Lily said nothing. She rubbed her hands together, wondering how it had come to this. She really liked Tonks, and thought that the two of them were getting to be quite close. But now, Lily knew that she barely knew anything about her.

She got to her feet. "I'll talk to Harry."

Tonks almost collapsed with relief. "Lily, thank you…"

"But that doesn't mean that I agree with you.' Said Lily sharply. 'What you did…lying to us…it isn't forgiven that easily. A betrayal of a friends trust is a very hard thing to win back. Trust me…I should know."

Lily gave her one last look and then went after Harry once more. Tonks clenched her jaw shut, her chin trembling, and she sunk down into the closet chair available before she collapsed to the floor.

----------------

Hermione rolled the tip of her wand between her thumb and forefinger as she watched Draco. They'd been sitting with him for just over half an hour now, and still he hadn't tried to escape once, just sat upright with trained posture, his chin level in an attempt to retain some dignity Perhaps he was under the impression that it wasn't dignified behavior to thrash about like a common Muggle, or maybe he was accepting of what was happening to him, or maybe he was simply just too weak to struggle; he did look awfully thin. Not that he hadn't always been slim, but now he just looked sickly, almost pathetic. His pale skin was almost translucent, and he seemed to have lost that elegant sheen he'd always seemed to have. He seemed rougher around the edges, more real and far less intimidating. Maybe it was the clothes he was wearing.

Ron paced in front of him like a caged lion, still fired up on that fiery Weasley temper. His strides were long and determined, and he could cross the entire dining room in six steps. He was almost snorting steam from his nostrils, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for any moment when Draco would make an insult.

Draco looked at the ceiling, feeling entirely bored with the situation. Strangely enough, he wished Tonks were there. She always seemed to be able to break silences such as these, even if they were in the presence of the two worst minions in history.

He cleared his throat. "You know, I'm still waiting for that drink."

"Ah yes, well, excuse me for a moment while I write that down in my 'Things I Don't Give a Toss About' notebook…' Snapped Ron.

"I have one of those,' smirked Draco, 'it has written in it every syllable that you've ever muttered, Weasley."

Ron shook his head angrily and began to pace again. "And to think that we almost…but couldn't…damn you, Malfoy…complete git…ruining my chance…'

"Are you really thirsty?' asked Hermione, sitting up properly at the table. 'Or are you just being a prat?"

Draco just looked at her.

Hermione sighed, got to her feet and conjured a glass of water. Putting her wand down, she carried the glass over to him and held it near his mouth for him to drink.

He quirked an eyebrow. "What, no umbrella?"

"Just drink it you ungrateful sod."

Draco pursed his lips, apparently appalled. He turned his nose up and turned away from it. Hermione felt anger boil up under her skin, but she didn't lash out. She just put the glass down on the table and stood over him.

He looked up at her. "What is it, Granger? Finally stunned by my good looks? Well, better late than never I suppose."

"Don't flatter yourself,' laughed Hermione, 'Kreacher's left earlobe is more attractive than you at the moment."

Ron laughed and Draco scowled.

Hermione surveyed him. "You know, I think I prefer this look on you. It's less hoity-toity, more real, more human…'

Draco jerked back as Hermione reached out to fiddle with the collar of his shirt. "Keep your hands off me, Mud-…'

"Mudblood?' finished Hermione with raised eyebrows. She laughed softly and lent right into his personal space, causing him to lean back as far as he could. 'It's disappointing to know that after seven years you _still_ cant think of anything original to call me. You think 'Mudblood' hurts me? You think it offends me? I didn't even know what it meant until I was thirteen. Its gibberish to me, Malfoy – get some new material. Even Jerry Lewis did after the first few years.' She stood up and began pacing leisurely in front of him; Ron had stopped and was watching from the fireplace. 'It must really get to you, being beaten by a Mudblood? Being forced to sit in a chair while I strut around in front of you? Being denied magic, the very thing you were brought up with, while I, who grew up without any magic, am free to use it whenever I want? It's rather amusing how things turn out, isn't it? I get to be the witch with all the power, while you have to be the very thing you hate. A Muggle…powerless…"

"Sometimes irony is good to us.' Grinned Ron, sitting down on the table beside Draco. 'Not always, but sometimes."

Draco clicked his tongue with an air of posh arrogance and looked up at the ceiling. 'Are you two quite done? The useless air protruding from your fat mouths is ruffling my hair. Have you any idea how long it takes to get my hair this fantastic?"

"Ten seconds?' asked Hermione.

"Granger, bugger off like a good Mudblood, will you?' he said, giving her a look.

"Sorry Ferret,' said Hermione, folding her arms over her chest. 'Not going anywhere."

CRACK.

The three teens looked around to see Remus Lupin appear, shaking his shaggy robes as if he'd just run through a snow storm. He straightened up, but his placid expression changed as soon as he clapped eyes on Hermione, Ron and Draco strapped invisibly to the chair.

Remus frowned. "_Draco_? What are _you_ doing here?"

"I heard there was going to be a Tupperware party.' Said Draco conversationally.

"Remus, you _knew_ about this?' demanded Hermione.

"Unfortunately I did,' said Remus, looking at Draco in reserved disbelief. 'Dora actually brought you here?"

"We knew to concern ourselves with her better judgment when she started dating you.' Smirked Draco.

Remus pursed his lips. "Where is she now?"

Ron jerked his thumb upward. "She's upstairs, talking to Harry."

Remus didn't ask anymore questions. With one last concerned look at Draco, he strode quickly out of the room, his cloak billowing out behind him.

"Hey! What about me?' cried Draco after him. He sighed, let his head roll back and groaned. 'Why is God so cruel to me?"

"Because you're a slimy faced git who deserves everything he gets."

"Oh snap, Weasley."

----------------------

Harry was extremely tense when Lily put a hand on his arm. He had his arms folded over his chest and he was staring resolutely out the window to the yard below, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed. To most people this would have been indication that he was closed off and not in the mood to talk, but Lily wasn't most people.

She rubbed his arm. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"Good, because I _don't_ want to.' He said shortly.

"And I don't want you to either, but…if you'd just think about it…"

"What is there to think about?' he snapped. 'Dumbledore's dead because of him! Not by his hand, but still because of what he did. And now everyone expects me to let him live with us? I wouldn't let him live with us even if last June _hadn't_ happened! Doesn't anyone get it? I hate him!"

"I know,' she said, putting an arm around his shoulders, 'I know you do."

Harry fumed for a long time after that, his muscles occasionally flinching, begging him to release his tense hold on them. Lily just let him stew, knowing he'd eventually calm down enough for her to talk to him properly.

After a long pause, he let his head droop. "I hate this."

Lily looked at him. "Hate what, sweetheart?"

"Being put in this position. Having to make these decisions.' He said softly, his shoulders slumping.

"Its true, Harry…people look to you now to make these sorts of decisions.' Said Lily. 'And it's only the beginning. You're going to have to make a lot of choices, Harry; choices that no-one else including me will ever have to make. It's hard, and it's a heavy burden that you're made to carry."

"I'm finding it all very overrated…all this growing up, taking responsibility…becoming and adult…'

"Don't we all?' chuckled Lily.

Harry sighed and unclenched his muscles, causing him to go from looking guarded and furious to looking defeated. "I just feel…I feel like I don't have control over anything anymore. Like someone's already planned out how everything will turn out for me, and I have no say in it. That I can't escape from it, not matter how hard I fight."

Lily grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him to face him. "No-one's fate is certain, Harry. Not yours, or Malfoy's, or mine or anyone else's. Everything that happens to you is up to _you_. You can be the world's greatest hero or its most mold mannered citizen…but the only person who can write your story is you. You have more power than you think."

"The power to affect the game?' he asked. 'Malfoy changes everything now!"

"Change isn't always bad,' said Lily. 'Look, if you want him gone then that's your decision, but I want you to _really_ think about this first – from all angles."

"I've tried,' said Harry looking back out the window. 'And every time I think about it I see Dumbledore on top of the tower, Malfoy pointing his wand at him, telling him he's going to kill him, telling him what he'd done, and it does nothing but cause me to hate him even more. I can't see this from any other point of view. I _can't_."

"Let me help you then.' She said. 'All you have to do is listen to me. Listen and just try to consider what it is I'm telling you. Can you do that?"

Harry didn't say anything for a long moment. He stared determinedly out the window, and then turned to look at her. He considered her hesitantly, and then nodded.

-------------

Another half an hour passed until anything happened.

After finding Tonks upstairs, Remus had brought her back down to the kitchen to sit with Ron, Hermione and Draco so that they could talk some more about what had happened. As predicted, Ron and Hermione were as stubborn about accepting this as Harry had been.

Ron shook his head for the hundredth time during their conversation. "Does your mother know where you are?' he asked Draco.

"If she did, do you think I would be here talking with you?' asked Draco. 'Mother would never think to bring me to this level of society."

"Would you prefer to go live in the Death Eater's level of society?' snapped Tonks, giving Draco a glare from where she sat at the table. 'Would that suit you better?"

Draco didn't respond, just pursed his lips and glared at her.

Remus opened his mouth to jump in once again in Tonks's defense, but he like everyone else looked around as the sound of descending footsteps came from the stairs. They watched as Lily walked into the room, wand in her hand and an unreadable expression on her face.

She looked at Remus in a moment of surprise, before she put two and two together and shook her head. 'God dammit, Remus…"

"Lily, I…"

"Don't start.' She snapped. Her gaze lingered on Remus only one more moment before she looked at Draco. She raised her wand and Draco flinched, but she simply waved it and released his binds.

Draco looked up at her, startled. He rubbed his wrists, clearly not game to say anything to the mother of his worst enemy.

Lily frowned down at him. "Harry's coming down now. I suggest you keep your sarcasm to yourself, lest he hex it all out of you."

"What has he…' Tonks started, but she didn't get to finish as footsteps sounded again.

Everyone was tense as Harry entered the room, his hands shoved in his pockets. He looked considerably calmer than he had been an hour ago, but still had a pensive crease in his brow. He paused in the doorway and looked at everyone in turn, before his eyes landed on Draco.

He slowly made his way over, well aware of the tension that only seemed to thicken with every step toward them he took. Draco didn't look scared or intimidated, more bored with the situation.

Harry pursed his lips and took a moment to sort out his thoughts before he spoke. "I don't like you, and even more than that I don't want you within fifty thousand million kilometers of me or my family. You killed one of the greatest people to have ever walked this earth, of my best friends, and I hate you for that. Malfoy, the last thing I want to see when I come down from breakfast in the morning is your greasy face reading my paper, and if I had it my way you'd be carving lines in the walls of Azkaban in the cell beside your asshat father."

Draco clenched his jaw and his cheeks went pink and he very much look like he wanted to snap back and tell Harry where he could shove his morning paper, but he glanced at Lily and Remus and Tonks and, with a great effort, kept his mouth shut.

"But, I've been thinking about this strategically,' continued Harry. 'And if I want to win this war, I know there's a lot I can get out of you that will help me do that. And not only that, but…' he paused and pulled himself together. 'The last thing Dumbledore wanted was for you to be safe. For you to be out from under Voldemort's thumb; off his radar. It was his last wish, and I want to respect that. You can stay here with us, but as soon as this war is over you're going straight to jail – do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars."

"Is this the part where I say thank you?' said Draco, quirking an eyebrow.

"This is the part where you shut up and let me _finish_, you git.' Snapped Harry. He closed the distance between them and folded his arms over his chest. 'You can stay here…on one condition."

At this, Draco threw his hands up in the air and got to his feet. "What is it with you goody too-shoes and your sodding conditions? Isn't it enough that I've been stripped to my bare minimum? Been denied my wand? No, you still want more!"

"Malfoy, I trust you as far as I can throw you!' retorted Harry irritably. 'You expect me to just let you stay here without first ensuring our safety?"

"How am I possibly going to hurt you, Potter? Wave my finger at you and hope that something happens?"

"You can hurt us in so many ways it isn't funny.' Said Harry. 'You can betray us, reveal our location, tell them that we're here…"

"I don't even know where here _is_!' cried Draco. He shook his head. 'To Hades with you Potter and your conditions, I'm out of here!"

Tonks leapt to her feet. "Draco, _STOP_!" she roared.

And Draco stopped.

Ron raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Wow, Tonks, how'd you get him trained so fast? Electronic collar? Got dog treats in your pocket?"

Tonks ignored him. "Draco Malfoy don't you DARE walk out of this room!' she said angrily.

"Why shouldn't I?' he asked, whirling around. 'He doesn't want me here. He's made it perfectly clear. I don't _want_ to be here!"

"Here is better than the hell they'd send you to if you were to return to them.' Said Tonks, coming back over to him. She grabbed him by the arm and turned him to face her. 'I did not go through all this just to have you walk out of here like an ungrateful brat. Think of what they'll do to you if you return to them. What they'll do to your mother!"

Draco glared down at her, his grey eyes narrowed. He loathed her expression, full of desperation. Why did he always listen to her? He honestly didn't understand why she cared so much. He didn't understand why he cared so much. What was happening to him? What was this power she had over him? He didn't listen to anyone like he listened to her, only his parents.

He looked away from her and looked over at Harry, wishing he could perform The Killing Curse with his eyes. "What's your condition then, Potter?"

Harry straightened up. "I want you to make an Unbreakable Vow with me."

--------------------------------------------------

A/N – I am totally exhausted! Kinda jumped all over the place, but I wanted to fit so much in! Hopefully you liked it. If you have issued with this Tonks/Draco stuff, just please remember that it's only fanon after all!

Please review!


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry raised his wand higher as he crept down the deserted hallway in pitch black darkness, the beam of light emitting from the end of his wand cutting through the dark and guiding him forward. The floorboards creaked so loudly under his feet with each step he took that he feared they would all cave in beneath him, sending him crashing through to the floor below. It quite impaired his ability to 'creep' throughout the house.

He jiggled his wand in his loose fist, the beam of light jumping up and down as he stopped at the next room along the landing. It, like all the others, was unlocked and took little effort to enter. It was another bedroom; as dank and as musty with neglect as the previous seven he had already explored. And while they were smelly and old and forgotten, they were still comfortably furnished. In contained such things as a four-poster double bed with moth-eaten hangings, an oak desk by the grimy windows, dressers, portraits that seemed to be able to sleep through an atomic bomb…

With a resigned sigh, Harry held his wand between his fingers like a pen and began to give the room a thorough search. He knew it wouldn't take him long, but it was annoyingly slow none-the-less when he knew that he could just summon what he needed. But _no_…Hermione had _insisted_…

And so he searched, wand wedged securely between his fingers. He looked in drawers, in cupboards, on top of windowsills, knocked on floorboards and looked under the bed. He cast every charm he knew to unveil any secret hiding places within the room, be it muggle made or magically protected but, as he had predicted, he turned up nothing. No trap doors, no safe's hidden behind portraits, no hidden doorways… nothing. Although he had expected it, he still felt disappointed.

With a sigh he picked himself up off the floor and dusted off his knees. He gave the room one last look of contempt, before marching out of the room and magiking the door shut firmly behind him.

"Did you find anything?"

Harry rolled his eyes as he found Hermione waiting for him at the bottom of the grand staircase. "No, like I _said_, there's nothing here!"

"Don't get huffy at me!' snapped Hermione, her voice echoing through the massive, marble floor entrance hall like she were standing alone in a cathedral. 'It doesn't hurt to be thorough, now does it?"

"Does if there are more _important_ things we could be doing.'

"Well, I'm sorry that the search for Horcruxes and the possible end to a fifty year span of war and tyranny is keeping you from your Canon's match.' Said Hermione, deadpan.

Harry, looking bashful, _nox_-ed the beam of light from his wand and stuffed it in his pocket as he made his way down the stairs to stand with her. "But they were actually in _front_…"

"Hey!" came Ron's voice.

Hermione and Harry looked up to see him leaning against the barrister of the first floor landing, his red hair covered with flakes of dust and a cobweb hanging off his left shoulder.

Hermione frowned at him. "Did you go down the chimney?"

Ron threw a look down at her. "Who died and made _you_ head comedian, woman? It so happens that I was giving the room a thorough look-over…as you so wonderfully commanded us to do…because I knew I didn't _dare_ come down here having not fully searched to the best of my searching abilities."

Harry cringed. "Too many words…make it stop…'

"Did you find anything?' asked Hermione, trying to redirect the subject.

Ron shook his head, made his way over to the staircase and slid down the railing to land gracefully at the bottom of the stairs. "Nope – as empty as Malfoy's head."

"See? What did I tell you?' said Harry, turning to Hermione and throwing his hands up. 'It is _not_ still here. The odds of it still being here were one million billion gazillion to…er…well, they weren't good odds. He _took_ it, Hermione. He stole it like he stole the locket. Why would he bring it back here?"

"That's what we thought about the Pensieve too, if you'll remember,' said Hermione, picking the cobweb off Ron's shoulder. 'Turns out I was right about that, wasn't I? And what on _earth_ have you been rummaging through, Ron? Look at your hair! Here, bend down…"

Harry arched his eyebrows as Hermione took Ron's face in her hands and made him bow his head down. She then began to ruthlessly ruffle his hair, shaking all the dust out of it.

"Yeah, but you're always right about everything.' Said Ron, leaning into her. 'Nothing new there."

"The point is I didn't want to overlook such a simple solution.' Said Hermione.

"The point is you made us search through a house that no-one has lived in for nearly forty years for two sodding hours for _nothing_.' Grumbled Harry. He took off his glasses and wiped the grime from the lenses with the edge of his t-shirt. 'We should have just left when the Summoning Charm didn't work."

"But there could have been many reasons why the Charm didn't work besides the fact that it couldn't have been here.' Said Hermione impatiently, dusting off Ron's back. 'It could be magically hidden…there could be protective charms on it…'

"Well, its not here.' Said Harry, putting his glasses back on.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Yes, it appears that way."

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and zoned out as Hermione and Ron continued to talk. It was eerie to be back in this house. To actually _be_ there, not as a ghost in a memory long thought forgotten, but as a real person in real time. The massive home of Hepzibah Smith was decrepit and neglected and full of so many Dust Bunnies they could have started their own zoo. He didn't want to be there at all. Everything about the house reminded him of two things: Tom Riddle and Dumbledore – neither of which he wanted to think about. The only reason Hermione had convinced him to go in the first place was the small, snowballs chance in hell possibility that they may actually find Hufflepuff's Cup there.

And then there was the fact that Draco Malfoy was sitting back at the Order Headquaters, _his_ house, with no-one but his mother for company, and that didn't sit well with him at all. He still couldn't believe it. He still couldn't believe that Draco Malfoy was actually _living_ with them now. _Malfoy_! He hated the thought of Malfoy staying there. He hated the thought of Malfoy, period. Since they had made their Vow, the git had been uncooperative to the point of insanity, and Harry wanted to hit him into Thursday of next week on several occasions daily. It was like a betrayal, having him there. It was like saying that Dumbledore's death meant nothing. It was like they were taking in anybody now if they had a good enough sob story. While they were at it, they should have invited Bellatrix around too for Sunday dinner, maybe even Voldemort if he was up to it. They could all sit down and play Canasta…

"Harry? Harry!"

Harry blinked and reality came roaring back to him. He looked at Hermione and Ron, who were watching him with lines of concern knitted in there brows.

He smiled hastily. "What?"

"You alright, mate?' asked Ron.

"Yeah…just…' he sniffed and looked around, '…tired…'

Hermione arched her eyebrows. "Tired?"

"Yeah…I'm…look, can we just go already?' said Harry irritably, beginning to pace.

"I still don't feel right about just giving up.' said Hermione, leaning against Ron.

Harry stopped at stared at this action, but neither Hermione or Ron seemed to notice.

"Well, you might have to, regardless of how good it feels.' Said Ron. 'We've been over every inch of this house and found nothing."

"I want to look more into this before I just let it go."

"There's nothing to look into, unless dusty wardrobes tickle your fancy.' Said Harry flatly.

"Now why would I bother when I know _you_ would do such a good job in my stead?' she retorted playfully.

Harry frowned and folded his arms over his chest in a childish pout, turning away from Ron's teasing grin.

"What did you have in mind?' chuckled Ron, putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I was hoping to talk to relatives of Hepzibah Smith, maybe we can gauge something useful about what could have happened to Hufflepuff's Cup…'

"You won't get anything useful because it _isn't here_.' Said Harry, exasperated. 'Voldemort _stole_ it when he killed her. It is _gone_."

Hermione fixed him with a stare. "Uh, I'm sorry…did you _consciously_ decide to be pessimistic when you woke up this morning?'

"What's _with_ you two?' laughed Ron, looking confused. 'You're bickering like an old married couple!"

"Yeah…and you two _aren't_.' responded Harry, quirking an eyebrow at Hermione, who was leaning her back up against the left side of Ron's chest. 'Something you'd both like to share with the rest of the class?"

Ron and Hermione stepped away from one another, blushing.

Harry only grinned, both amused and intrigued.

Hermione ran a hand through her hair. "As I was saying, I want to talk to a relative. Maybe Riddle didn't keep the Cup like we've assumed he did. Maybe he returned it like he did with Ravenclaw's Pensieve. I agree with you, Harry, the chances are small…but as long as there _is_ a chance, I don't want to overlook it. Surely you understand that."

"Yeah,' mumbled Harry, folding his arms over his chest as if he were cold, 'I guess. Knock yourself out, Hermione."

"Oh, no,' groaned Ron, screwing up his face as if he had just smelt something particularly foul, 'does this mean we have to do more research? I don't want to have to sit in the kitchen for an extra five hours going through records, trying to find long lost relatives of some dead old bag."

"No, Ron, you're not.' Said Hermione. 'I was thinking more along the lines of getting in touch with Zacharias Smith."

"That git?' spluttered Ron, looking horrified. 'How do you know he's even related to her? Let alone knows anything?"

"Smith is a pretty common last name.' said Harry quietly.

"Not in the magical world, it isn't.' said Hermione. 'Hepzibah is a great Aunt of Zachariah's; twice removed, I think. It doesn't matter how; the point is that he _is_. Now, which one of you wants to go to Hogwarts and talk to him?"

Ron and Harry looked at her blankly.

Hermione sighed. "Well, geez, don't both answer at once.'

"Cant you do it?' pleaded Ron.

"Sure, and would that be before or after I read my eight books on hexes, copy my notes of Horcrux locations and mix my protective potions?" she asked shortly.

"Maybe before?' Suggested Harry.

Hermione looked up at the dusty ceiling, praying for strength. "Fine. I'll get Ginny to talk to him. I'm sure she'll enjoy having something to contribute to our little rebellion."

Ron looked at Harry. "Is that alright with you?"

"What?' frowned Harry.

"Ginny talking to that prat – is it alright by you? Because I personally have quibbles, but I'm likely to be thumped if I share them."

Harry shrugged and turned away from them, looking around the massive room again. All the portraits were vacant, and it bothered him. If one of them had been there, he might have been able to ask if they remembered anything about Voldemort's frequent visits to the house back in the forties. But, as Fate would have it luck was once again not on there side. No, it would be terrible if things were to go their way, wouldn't it? It would he horrific for something to be made easy, just once…

Harry jumped as someone grabbed his arm. He turned to see Hermione standing beside him, her hair tucked behind her ears with a concerned look on her face.

"Are you sure you're alright? You don't look well."

"I said I'm _fine_, Hermione.' Said Harry defensively.

"Is it getting to you?' she asked, looking regretful. 'This place, I mean."

"No, its…I just…I'm…' he trailed off and looked around again, for some reason half-expecting Dumbledore to come walking down the stairs with a smile. Harry looked away from the staircase and blinked rapidly. 'Look, it doesn't matter. We just need to get out of here."

"Yes, I heard that the first fifty times you said it.' Said Hermione with a smile.

"Well I'm sorry, but the idea of my mother at home with Malfoy isn't a comforting one!' said Harry shortly.

Hermione rubbed his arms comfortingly and Ron patted him on the shoulder. 'It's alright, mate. Let's go home."

Harry clenched his jaw and looked at the empty staircase one final time. He could almost see Tom Riddle coming down the stairs with that elegant walk of cold grace, a smirk on his handsome features as he held a cup in one hand and slipped his wand back in his pocket with the other.

---------------

_Will you never try to hurt me, my friends, family or any one else on our side while you stay with us? Magically or physically? _

_I will. _

Draco stared down at the palm of his hand with a slightly dazed expression. It was hard to believe that he'd even touched Harry in a gentle, non-violent way, let alone actually made an Unbreakable Vow with him. It was appalling to think that his beautiful, once well-manicured hand had actually gripped Harry's claused, grimy, Gryffindor hand and been bound in a magical tie. A tie that he was bound to until Harry decided to release him from it, or he, Draco, broke it and inadvertently killed himself.

Some days, Draco considered killing himself, just to send Harry a big 'up yours'.

_Will you not leave this house, or communicate without anyone outside his house unless you have my willing permission? _

_I will. _

It had been five days now. Five whole days he'd been stuck with team Goody-Goody, and he wondered why he hadn't strung himself from the rafters yet. Everything about it was appalling. Their voices, their faces, their food, their humor, their mission, their values… he just wanted out, and he wanted it now. At least with the Death Eaters he was respected. He was looked upon as an adult, a _person_, not just some prisoner. But then, as Tonks would say, that was the price he paid for his decisions. "Every action has a natural reaction" as she would say. He was rather over these blasted Order people and their enlightening proverbs.

_Will you do everything you can to help me and my friends bring down Voldemort and his Death Eaters? _

_Oh, well, see…I'm not really much of a 'hands on' person…_

_Malfoy… _

_Yes, alright, I will! Twit. _

He knew the only reason he had made the vow in the first place was because of Tonks. Because of this disgusting, growing influence she seemed to me unconsciously having over his decisions. Over his choices. It was disgusting. It was degrading. If it weren't for the simple fact that she were blood, he would have dramatically walked out long ago; maybe not have even shown up in the first place.

But was that really all that had kept him there?

_Will you not use your wand or potions unless you have permission from Ron, Hermione, my mother, Remus, Tonks or myself while you stay here with us? _

_Buggering hell…alright, yes, I will. _

Draco pursed his lips and curled his fingers into a tight fist. He wanted to strangle Potter (not an all together new impulsive need, but present none-the-less) with his bare hands. He wanted to see his stupid fat head turn a beautiful shade of purple. He wanted to beat the permission he now vitally needed to simply create a beam of light for him to navigate the household with at night out of him. He now had to use a candle. A _candle_! It was so primitive, so _Muggle_…

He looked up quickly and flinched as he saw Lily walk into the kitchen, a sandwich tray levitating along behind her. Even after a week, the sight of her still creeped him out. It was almost unnatural for her to be there. Something about it was just…wrong to him.

She arched an eyebrow at him as she noticed him staring at her. She put the tray down on the dining table and tapped the open book in front of him with a long, elegant finger. "Shouldn't you be pondering the intricate inner workings of this book, instead of looking at me?"

"I would, but your hair is very eye-catching."

"Flattery is wasted on me.' she said, sitting down adjacent to him.

Draco blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry, that wasn't meant to be flattering. Your hair…it's this unfortunate shade of red, you see…though not as horrific as the Weasleys…"

Lily narrowed her eyes at him, her corner of her mouth twitching. "You're very charming, aren't you? I bet you're a whiz with the ladies."

"The hospital wing is filled with girls who have sustained concussions and sprained ankles from falling at my feet.' Said Draco, turning the page of his book idly.

Without meaning to, Lily imagined James strutting down the hallways with his chest puffed out, ruffling his hair and winking at girls as he passed by. But she blinked, and was back to the present, and once again saw the little blonde weed sitting beside her.

She cleared her throat and pushed the sandwich tray toward him. "I made turkey."

"Is there corn beef?' he asked, peering at the little quarters of food.

"I made turkey; it's not an ambiguous sentence."

"_Can_ there be corn beef?"

"There could be, I suppose, if you'd like to go down the street and…oh!' she gasped and put a hand over her mouth. 'Oh, wait…that's right; you _can't_ go down the street, because you would die! Funny about that, huh?'

Draco propped up his elbow, rested his cheek in the heel of his hand and glowered. "Turkey will be lovely."

She smiled and sat back. "That's what I thought."

He fumed as he grabbed up a sandwich quarter and munched on it moodily. It wasn't bad enough he was bound to Potter's permission, he had to be babysat by his mother as well. Was the world _and_ its justice against him now?

"So, how's it going?' she asked conversationally.

"Well, to be perfectly honest it's bad!' he said quickly, as if he'd been sitting on this for a long time. 'I don't sleep well; my skin is in the most _horrendous_ condition from that slippery little white square of cow intestine you call 'soap', I've walked in on Weasley half-undressed more times than any human should _ever_ be subjected to, the portrait in my room likes to sing me to sleep…'

"_Draco_!' cried Lily.

Draco stopped and looked at her.

She tapped the book. "I meant the _book_. How is your _research_ going?"

"Dismal, to be quite frank.' He sighed, flipping the book shut. 'It's just a plethora of words I have no interest in reading. And I know of no reason why I must sit around doing all this reading while Potter and his two tag-alongs get to go out grocery shopping, or get quotes on new bathroom fixtures, or whatever it is they do when they disappear after morning tea."

"Listen, sonny-Jim – you gonna say, you gonna work." Said Lily, opening his book again. 'The consequence of murder is not a holiday. You promised Harry you would help, and you're going to. Now read."

Draco sighed and shut the book again. "I can't. It's simply impossible. I mean, half of this nonsense is written archaic, proto magical cuneiform. And, I don't mean to be rude, but I think the other half they just doodled."

Lily frowned, slid the book toward her and examined it. She rolled her eyes and shoved it back to him. "It's in English, you little twat. Just read it!

"Admittedly, it would help if I knew what I was actually meant to be researching, but I didn't want to ask and make waves…'

"Anything at all on Godric Gryffindor.' Said Lily shortly, helping herself to a sandwich.

"Why are you researching him?'

"For my fan site.' Said Lily shortly.

"How is anything about a long deceased, over-confident berk with absolutely no sense in colour coordination going to help some person, or 'fan' as you call them, with their eyesight?"

"Draco,' said Lily, as if he were particularly slow, 'when I give you hints, its usually good manners to take them."

Draco only needed to be subjected to the look she was giving him for a short moment before he went back to his book. He knew that look well; it was the look his mother used to give him when he was younger and asked about his father's old Death Eater days. The look that said 'do shut up before I curse you all the way back to your room'.

He read only another sentence, before taking a glance up through his blonde fringe at the woman sitting with him. Another shiver ran down his spine at the sight of her. She was simply munching away on her sandwich, her eyes shut and her mind off with the fairies. She looked like her son around the eyes, and it was disturbing. How was she even there? How was it even possible that she existed? How had she survived that night sixteen years ago? It made no sense, and Draco hadn't yet had the sense to find out. Not that he expected to be told, no doubt it was this huge, big, 'Gryffindor's only' secret…but it didn't hurt to ask.

"Excuse me, one moment…' he said, grabbing her attention.

Lily's eyes flew open and she looked at him, annoyed. 'What is it, Draco?"

He shifted. "No offence…but aren't you supposed to be dead?"

She made a 'pfft' noise and waved a hand at him dismissively. "Oh, I'm over that."

And Draco, now one for subtle hints of Lily Potter origin, knew that that was the best answer he was going to get.

CRACK.

Draco whirled around and felt his already low morale drop to sub-terrain levels as he spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione now standing in the dinning room. But the fact that they looked so disappointed and let down, especially Harry who looked like he were about to collapse with misery, did make him feel a little better.

Lily had sat up instantly. "No luck?"

Hermione shook her head and took her bag off her shoulder, giving Draco a glance. "No, we didn't find anything. But I'm determined."

"A recent personality development for you, Granger?' said Draco sarcastically.

"Malfoy, if you'd like to say something you need to raise your hand, okay?' said Hermione sweetly, giving Draco a large, false grin.

"How about a finger?' he asked. 'Will that do?"

Ron swelled up, ready to give Draco a good ear bashing, but Harry stepped forward and cut him off. He didn't need to say anything; just his appearance was enough to get their attention. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes were droopy and tired, and he had his arms folded tightly over his chest as if he were freezing cold.

He gave Draco a long, hard look, and then looked at his mother. "Is everything alright with him?"

"Yes, because I'm not sitting _right here_, Potter.' Snapped Draco. 'Good to know tact wasn't wasted on you."

"Everything's fine, sweetheart.' She said distractedly, frowning at her son. 'Harry, are you…'

"I'm going upstairs.' Mumbled Harry shortly, already turned and on his way out of the room. 'Hermione, do what you were…you were going to do…'

They all watched him go in silence, unsure of what to say. It was, for all except Draco, inexplicably depressing to see Harry so down. They all wanted to sit and sulk with him, but the knew that if they did they would never get out of the rut ever again. They had to be the strong ones, so that when Harry got caught in his hole of hopelessness, they could be the motivation that would make Harry pull himself out.

Lily got to her feet, her eyes on the doorway her son had just walked through. She didn't look down at Draco, just hit him in the arm, said, "Hurry up and read" and walked out of the room after Harry.

Draco smiled and looked down at his book as if suddenly finding it an extremely fascinating read. "Good to know our future is in such capable hands."

"Can I hurt him yet?' asked Ron, looking at Hermione pleadingly. 'I need to practice my Blasting Curses.'

"Weasley didn't raise his hand,' sang Draco mockingly, turning the page of his book idly. "Remove previous statement from the record."

Hermione glared at Draco. "Ron, will you please go write a letter to your sister for me while I baby-sit?"

"I'm not leaving you down here with _him_!' cried Ron, outraged.

"Indeed not,' said Draco, looking up at them, scandalized. 'I just got rid of one Mudblood…I was enjoying the clean air…'

"Ron, _please_?' said Hermione calmly, as she caught Ron around the waist as he launched himself forward to attack Draco. He fumed as he stared down at Draco, who was pretending to read his book with a smirk on his face. Hermione put a hand on his cheek and turned his face toward her, and she felt him soften instantly. 'It's alright, honestly…'

"He can't keep saying that all the time.' Snapped Ron harshly. 'He's…I'm…look, I know the deal with him not able to hurt you and all, but I still don't want you alone with him. Anywhere. Ever."

"Well I want to get that letter to Ginny, and I don't want him in the room when I write it.' Whispered Hermione.

"Well _you_ go and _I'll_ stay with him."

"So it's alright for you to stay here but not me? Are you serious?"

"Dead serious."

"Just because you're a male, and I'm a female? The knight and the helpless damsel in distress? It's the nineties, Ron – I'd like to welcome you to it!"

"It's not like that…"

CRACK.

The two of them, and Draco, looked around to see Tonks, ruffling her purple windswept hair and untangling herself from her cloak. She looked up at the three teens and laughed. "Whoa, do _not_ go outside unless you want a one way ticket to the land of Oz – and I do not mean Australia. The wind's knocking people in trees and lamp posts and everything!'

"There you go, Tonks is here!' said Ron triumphantly, beaming down at Hermione. 'She can sit with Captain Peroxide over there."

"I'm a natural blonde, thank you, Weasley, you uncultured twit.' Said Draco conversationally, watching Tonks as she took her cloak off and helped herself to a turkey sandwich.

Ron opened his mouth again to snap, but Hermione grabbed his hand and promptly led him out of the room.

Tons flopped down in the spare seat beside Draco with a sigh and put her feet up on the table. "Playing nicely with the other children, I see."

Draco looked at her blankly for a moment, and then smirked.

--------------------

Ron hated being stressed.

And yet, it seemed to be an increasingly common state of being for him. He'd never really had much to worry about throughout his life beside Fred and George pulling another prank on him at two in the morning. He wasn't the oldest, so he didn't have to carry the weight of all the younger siblings like Bill. He wasn't the youngest, so he didn't have to worry about all the expectations on him like Ginny did sometimes, even though he had in the past. He'd always had a fairly carefree life, but in the past few years it had transformed from carefree to as stressed as a Chihuahua in a Chinese food shop. He had so many different things to worry about now, so many people – and one of them was sitting in the room with him.

He'd been watching her write her letter for ten minutes now. It was longer than the average letter would probably take to write, especially asking for one simple favor, but no doubt she was adding in her own personal thoughts. And then there was the fact that she had to word everything in a way that would ensure that if the owl was intercepted no-one else but Ginny would understand what it was she was asking. Her pen danced over the parchment slowly, taking her time as she always did when she wanted to produce something presentable.

Ron's expression went dreamy as he watched her. Hermione's bushy hair had fallen down over her shoulders, creating a curtain to hide her face. He loved her hair; how it was the only part of her entire being that seemed out of control. He also loved her hands; the way they held a quill or cast charms with her wand, and the way they fit with his when he held them…

The pen suddenly stopped and she stilled. "Why are you looking at me?" Ron could tell from the tone in her voice that she was smirking.

He shrugged and sat back in his seat. "Just taking in the surroundings."

"You've been looking at me since we sat down ten minutes ago."

"Your point is a blunt one, and I brush it gracefully aside."

Hermione laughed softly and continued writing. "Isn't there something else you can stare at? Like that unsightly little hole in the wall over there?"

Ron grinned and leant forward on the desk, propping his chin up in the heel of his hand. "I can't. Someone hit you with the Pretty stick and I just can't look away."

She laughed again, but didn't comment. Ron looked at her appreciatively, feeling a sudden pang of guilt for not always letting her know what a good job she was doing at holding everything together. He'd never really been very good with the whole 'giving praise' aspect – especially with girls.

He pursed his lips. "Are you tired?"

Hermione sighed. "No, not really."

"Yeah, you are. I can tell."

"If you knew, why did you ask me in the first place?' she giggled.

Ron hesitated, then reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear in one soft, slow motion. He felt her turn into his touch and he cupped her face with his hand, brushing her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. Open affection like this still sent a thrill up his spine.

"Hermione, you're…I just wanted to tell you that, er…'

"Sometime today, Ronald."

"You're doing a good job. You know, with everything.' He said awkwardly, knowing it sounded incredible lame.

But she didn't seem to mind. She smiled, put a hand over his and kissed the inside of his palm. "Thank you. I just wish I could fix Harry so easily."

Ron nodded, took his hand back and looked around at the door. "Yeah… don't we all?"

---------------

Lily sat down on the edge of Harry's bed with a sigh and rested a hand on the small of his back. He was lying on his stomach, his arms tucked under the pillow and his glasses were resting on the bedside table. His green eyes were closed and he was breathing slowly. The room was dark; the curtains drawn and no lamps on. He looked ready for bed, even though it was only mid afternoon.

"Harry?' she said, shaking him softly. She wasn't bothering to keep her voice down; she knew he wasn't really asleep. 'Harry, talk to me."

Harry groaned and screwed his face up. "Go 'way…sleeping…'

Lily sighed and rolled her eyes. "Don't be absurd, if you were sleeping the windows would be shaking from your snoring. Sit up, will you?"

Harry groaned again and muttered something into his pillow.

"Alright, you don't feel like talking? That's fine – _I'll_ do all the talking then.' She said, raking her nails down his back. Amusingly enough, he seemed to relax against her touch. She used to scratch his back when he was a baby to settle him when he had had restless nights; strange it would still work on him sixteen years later. 'What's troubling you then, ey? Lets think… is it something I've done to offend you?"

"Mmmmmno.' He moaned into his pillow.

"Okay…something Ron's done? Hermione?"

"Nuh uh."

"Alright…is it Draco?"

Harry let out a low growl and punched his pillow with his fist. "Hate him…want to smash him…"

Lily grinned. "Yes, I figured as much. Do you want to talk about it?"

"_No_, I _don'_ wanna talk 'bout it.' He mumbled curling up into the fetal position. 'Jus' go 'way…tired…'

"Why are you so tired lately?' she asked.

Harry shrugged.

Lily pursed her lips and frowned at him. "Harry, you worry me when you're like this. I mean, I know you're not the most cheerful clown in the circus, but…"

"I's _nothing_!' he cried irritably, clenching his fists. 'I don' wanna talk! Jus' _go_ already…"

"You can tell me to bugger off all you want, but do not lay there and try to convince me that there's nothing wrong with you.' She said sternly. 'I'm your mother; I know when something's wrong. And if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, but do not deny what I see."

Harry said nothing as the silence stretched on. He was irritated by her presence and wanted her to leave. He just wasn't in the mood for anything. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't want to see anyone. He didn't want to think. He just wanted to fall asleep, where he could escape the world for a few blessed hours and get some solitude.

Lily considered him for a long moment with concern. He'd seemed fine when he'd left that morning. What had happened to him in such a small amount of time to make him so exhausted?

Relenting, Lily rubbed his back one final time. "Okay, fine. Come downstairs when you're ready."

Harry didn't answer, he just kept his eyes shut as he felt the bed shift as she got up, listened as footsteps went to the door, hesitated, and the door closed behind her, throwing the room back into darkness once more.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N – I am SO sorry about taking so long, but my muse, Allegra, decided it would be a good time to take a trip to Tahiti! In all honesty, I couldn't find the motivation to write anything…I'm sure you writers will understand how that feels. I also apologize for the jump in time, but I want to keep the story moving and don't want to dwell on unimportant details. Fill in the blanks, you smart little cookies!

Please review!


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34!

* * *

It was a beautiful, mid Sunday afternoon.

Ron strolled up the hallway with a spring in his step. He didn't know what exactly had put him in such a fine mood; perhaps it was because there had been no attacks for two weeks. There had been no deaths, no kidnappings, no Dementor sightings – nothing. It was as if even the Death Eaters were taking time off for the Christmas holidays. Their sudden absence did however put everyone on edge, especially Harry, but Ron couldn't help but look at the positive side of their silence. It was the eye of the storm they had all been looking forward to, and Ron intended to make the most of it.

Then there was the fact that Ginny was coming home that afternoon. Hogwarts was sending its students home for the Christmas break, and Ginny had practically been the first person to put her hand up. It may have been corny, but Ron had missed her more than he thought he would. He missed how they used to tease one another, he missed their private jokes that no-one even seemed to get, he missed her affect on all of them, especially Harry…but most of all he just missed her; his little sister. Hogwarts seemed like a world away now, and sometimes he wished his parents had let Ginny stay behind as well. Either way, Ginny would be home soon, and she would be home for a week at the maximum. It wasn't a lot, but it would do.

And then, on top of all of that, there was the fact that he and Hermione were closer than they had ever been. He'd had more and more opportunities to be alone with her since things on the Death Eater front had calmed down, and he didn't take them for granted. On the odd occasion he'd been able to tear her away from her books, he'd snuck in a few more chaste kisses and even managed to press their hips together at once stage. He wanted to do so much more, (he was a red-blooded seventeen year old after all), but he kept his cool in her proximity, still unsure of whether or not she would reciprocate his physical needs or hex him ten different ways to next Friday. He wanted to go so much further, but he respected that she obviously didn't. Kissing was better than nothing after all, and he knew what nothing felt like…he'd spend the past three years with nothing. He thanked Merlin that they weren't staying at The Burrow. While Mrs. Potter was lenient enough to let them have a little time alone with the door open, he knew his mother would never even allow even that. She was the old fashioned sort.

Ron looked down at the bunch of flowers in his hand as he headed down another corridor. It wasn't the biggest or most extravagant bouquet man ever gave to a woman. They were flowers he'd picked from his mothers garden at The Burrow, as he hadn't had enough money to afford to buy some. He worried she wouldn't like them, but he remembered back when she had stayed with them at The Burrow two years ago, when she had spent many hours out in the summer sun with Crookshanks. She had seemed to particularly like these flowers. He hoped she still did.

He swung the flowers down at his side, and was only a few doors away from Hermione's study when the only thing that could ruin such a perfect day came strolling up the corridor toward him, nose stuck in a book and blonde hair falling into his grey eyes.

"Malfoy!"

Draco stopped and looked up from his book, momentarily startled until he found Ron. His surprise faded instantly to be replaced with his usual look of arrogant pity he only showed around Ron.

"Oh, Weasley. I thought I smelt cabbage."

"What are you doing up here, Malfoy?" asked Ron sharply.

"What business is it of yours?"

"You've got a suspicious look about you.' Said Ron surveying him.

Draco looked offended. "Now wait just a pea picking minute! I may lead a double life full of secrets and deception, but that's no reason to be _suspicious_! Looking shifty indeed! That's a nice 'how do you do' isn't it? Here I am, taking time out of my busy daily schedule to read about some dead old berk no-one cares about for people _I_ don't care about and I get criticized! I have other things I could be doing you know, Weasley! I had a hair appointment this afternoon I sadly had to cancel…"

Ron clenched his jaw. "Just answer the question."

"I'm _reading_, Weasley. You should try it sometime. It's a very enlightening experience."

"What are you reading?"

"Playwizard."

Ron frowned and looked at the title of the book Draco was reading. It was _Hogwarts: A History. _

Draco snapped the book shut around his finger, marking his page. "Is the interrogation over? Can I be on my merry way now?"

"Why aren't you downstairs reading that?"

"I felt like a walk.' He looked at the bunch of flowers in Ron's hand and smirked. "Been weeding, have we?"

Ron's ears went red and he hid the flowers behind his back.

Draco chuckled and rubbed his eyes. "Don't tell me you actually intended on giving those to Granger…"

"So what if I did?' snapped Ron, taking a few intimidating steps toward Draco. 'It's none of your bloody business, Malfoy."

"Oh no, jolly good work, Weasley! Excellent choice! She'll be blown away by flowers that look as if they were pulled from under King Arthur's gravestone.' Chortled Draco, greatly enjoying himself. 'This _is_ Granger we're talking about after all – a girl who would wet herself over an old used handkerchief of Gregory the Smarmy."

"Shut your face, Malfoy.' Sneered Ron, raising a fist.

Draco sighed and smiled up at Ron. "What's wrong, Weasley? Couldn't you afford to buy her some proper flowers?"

Ron wanted to hit him. Every part of him wanted to swing his fist forward and smack that arrogant git in his face, wipe the smirk of his face, cut his lip open just so he could watch him bleed. But he didn't move. He glared daggers down at Draco, who was just looking up at him smugly, knowing full-well that Ron wasn't going to hit him. He wasn't bound in a magical tie like Draco was, Ron wouldn't die as a result of hurting Draco and thereby breaking a vow, but Hermione had insisted that Ron do his best not to rise to Draco's taunts, and Ron wanted to, for once, try his best to do as she asked.

"I supposed I could have asked _you_ for some money, but that wouldn't do, considering you're just as poor as me at the moment.' sneered Ron. 'Welcome to the Pauper Club, rich boy – it's a very… '_enlightening'_ experience."

That wiped the grin off Draco's face. Ron felt smug and superior; he liked words all of a sudden.

He lowered his fist and shoved Draco harshly out of the way. 'Now, walk yourself downstairs in one piece before I take you down in four body bags."

Draco gave Ron one last glare, before stalking off past him. Ron could hear words like 'fat head' and 'prick' and 'ponce' as he left in the other direction.

Feeling satisfied once again, Ron pushed the thought of Draco out of his mind and continued up the hall to Hermione's study. The door was open when he arrived. She was sitting at the piano again. She wasn't playing, just gazing thoughtfully at the ivory keys with her hands silently in her lap. Her hair was up, and he instantly wanted to kiss her exposed neck. But, he pushed that thought out of his mind too.

He knocked on the doorframe. "Can I come in?"

Hermione looked around at him. "Ron! Er, I was just…I, well…'

"Just taking a break?"

"No, I was…regrouping."

"By taking a break.' He laughed, coming over to her. 'It's alright to take a break every once and a while, you know."

Hermione got to her feet with an irritated sigh. "No, it isn't, not when things are so hectic right now."

Ron frowned as he watched her pace distressingly. "Hectic? Hermione, we haven't had this much time off in months!"

"I know – that's what worries me.' said Hermione. 'The only time Death Eaters are ever this quiet is when something big is about to happen. They recoil and they regroup and it never bodes well for us. They spend all their time planning something terrible and we've never been in the right situation to be able to do something about it. _We_ need to regroup. We can't be treating this like some sort of holiday! We need to take advantage of their absence! We need to strike…flush them out…"

"Whoa! Hermione, slow down!' Ron stepped in front of her and cut off her pacing. 'Calm down, alright? It won't do you or us any good getting flustered."

Hermione sighed and flicked a stray lock of hair out of her face. "Yes, I know, but it just doesn't help that…' she trailed off and blinked as she spotted what Ron was holding in his hand. 'What are those?"

Ron looked down at the bunch of flowers in his hand. "These? Oh, er…' he hid them behind his back. 'These are nothing."

"Are they for me?"

"What? No, of course not!' laughed Ron nervously. 'Merlin's beard, how tacky do you think I am? If I was going to get you flowers I'd do it proper. I'd buy them. I certainly wouldn't do something cheap like pick them from Mum's garden."

Hermione said nothing. She just reached around his middle and brought the flowers back into view. She put a hand on his, leant in and sniffed them. A small smile spread across her face.

"Wood Anemone and Bellflower – I like these.' She looked up at him with a small frown. 'You weren't going to give them to me?"

"Well, I _was_…I mean, that's why I came up here, but…' he trailed off, his ears going red. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, wishing Malfoy and his unfortunate truthful honesty dead. 'I just…wasn't sure you'd like them."

Hermione laughed and looked at him hopelessly. "Ron, sometimes you do think the most absurd things. They're beautiful! What would make you think I wouldn't like them?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know."

She didn't believe him. She looked at him critically. "Someone's been in your ear, haven't they?"

"No, they haven't."

"It was Malfoy, wasn't it?' she said. It wasn't a question.

Ron fired up again. He looked angrily out the window as Hermione took the bunch of flowers out of his hand. "I hate him."

"Really? I had no idea.' Said Hermione flatly. She conjured a vase and water on top of the piano and put the flowers in.

"I'm not joking, I hate him. I hate him more than anything. I hate him more than maroon and corn beef!' raved Ron. 'He's been here for nearly three weeks now, and I still can't stand him. Tonks is barmy if she thinks we'll ever get used to him being here."

"I've gotten used to it,' said Hermione, arranging the flowers. 'Why haven't you?"

"I'll never get used to it. I hate seeing him every morning. I hate hearing his voice. I hate seeing his rat face.' Ron sat down heavily on the piano stool. 'He pushes me and pushes me and I don't care what anyone says, one day I'm going to hit him. I swear, I'm going to smack his face so hard he'll have to stick his toothbrush up his arse to clean his teeth!"

"Ron, you're rambling." Said Hermione.

Ron blew air out through his lips and looked up at her. "Sorry. It's just that Malfoy…'

"Is a git face ass-hat – we _know_, Ron.' Finished Hermione.

Ron looked at her in surprise.

Hermione shook her head. "Don't ask. Too many years with you and Harry, I think."

"Yeah, well, I didn't come up here to talk about Malfoy,' he said, getting to his feet. He put his hands on his hips and backed her up against the piano. He leant in hesitantly, and then kissed her softly. Everything about their physical relationship was cautious and unsure, and he longed to push it aside.

Just as he was getting into it, Hermione broke away and looked up at him scathingly. "Don't think that you can get to snog me just because you bring me a bunch of flowers."

"So I should add chocolates next time?' he asked.

Hermione hit him.

Ron laughed. "Look, I actually came up here for a reason…aside from giving you flowers and getting belted up."

"And what was that?"

"Come out with me today.' He said softly, looking at her hopefully.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Out? Out, as in…_out_?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, it's a nice, cold, winter's day – we should go out and enjoy it.'

"Oh, Ron…I don't know…'

"Come on, Hermione, why not?' said Ron.

"Because, Ron, we need to be preparing ourselves for attacks, not carousing about as if we're on holiday!' said Hermione, pushing Ron away gently. 'We're _not_ on holiday; we're in the middle of a _war_. This is just the eye of the storm, and if we're not ready when they hit us again…"

"That doesn't mean we're not entitled to a day off.' Said Ron. 'Its just lunch, Hermione. Lunch just down the road, not far away like in Paris or Australia. It's just you and me on a date, enjoying a meal that you'll have to pay for because I've run out of my allowance."

Hermione smiled and folded her arms over her chest.

Ron quirked a ginger eyebrow. "Why are you looking at me like that?

"You said 'date'." She laughed.

"Well, yes! Date! I'd like to take you on a proper date!' he said, suddenly wishing the floor would open up and swallow him hole. 'I mean…you _are_ my girlfriend, right? Surely it's official by now."

"It's not official until we tell Harry.' Said Hermione.

"Yeah…why _haven't_ we told Harry again?" asked Ron, looking genuinely confused.

Hermione rubbed her eyes. "Its not on purpose, there just hasn't been a right time. It's not something we can just spring on him over breakfast."

Ron closed the distance between them again and took her hands in his. "Can we discuss this over lunch? Please, Hermione? Come on, I have good table manners in public… honest…"

"It's nothing to do with your manners.' She said. 'It just doesn't feel right, upping and leaving…"

"You've been in this room all day, every day for a week straight. We need to get out. Just the two of us.' Pleaded Ron. 'Come on, Hermione, please? _Please_? All this will still be here when you get back. Hell, give it to Malfoy to read!"

Hermione gave him a look. "_That's_ meant to convince me?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "You _know_ what I mean. Malfoy's so bored he's even reading _Hogwarts: A History_ now adays. He'd read baking instructions for Hagrid's rock cakes if you put it in front of him."

"I don't want to give him anything with the word Horcrux on it.' Said Hermione determinedly.

"Then don't! Just…look, can we just go out? Please? I'm going batty sitting around here.' Said Ron.

Hermione pursed her lips and considered him silently for a long moment. Ron didn't know what he'd do if she said no. He just wanted to escape everything. He wanted to be out of this house, away from Malfoy, away from war and death and Horcruxes and Voldemort and just be with her; just be with her, away from everything so that for just a few hours they could pretend they were normal people.

She blew air out through her lips and looked down at her watch. "Well, I don't suppose a few hours could hurt."

"Yes! Hermione, you're the best!' cheered Ron. He grabbed her around the middle, lifted her off her feet, spun her around despite her squeals and kissed her firmly on the cheek.

"But we have to stop off at my house first.' Said Hermione, dislodging herself from his tight embrace. 'I need to get my purse if I'm paying."

"You know I was only joking. I can pay…I have _some_ money…"

"Don't be absurd. You brought me flowers – the least I can do is feed you in return."

---------------

Draco badly wanted to invest in those little Muggle devices called 'Ear Pugs' or whatever it was he saw advertised on the Fellytision back at Tonks's house. If they did what they claimed, they would have come in real handy in that moment. He didn't know how people expected him to read in these appalling loud, _cheery_ atmospheres.

Lily laughed and put her feet up on the dining table. "I think we need to have more gatherings. It's such a large house and all the room goes to waste. Yes, parties. That's what this side needs! Large, informal gatherings that is. Not like Order meetings all about business…"

Seated next to her, Remus smiled. "Yes, let's invite everybody we know – because no-body would find it at all strange to find you in attendance."

"What are you saying?" she said in mock offence.

"I'm saying words, do try and listen."

"I listen. I'm Mrs. Listen."

"Normally people look at the person they are listening to."

"That's a good tip. You should teach!"

"I _did_!" laughed Remus.

"And a smashing job you did too, I heard! Turning into a poodle and getting sacked and all…"

"I was not _sacked_. Remus Lupin does not get sacked.' Said Remus pompously. 'I resigned. I got a better offer."

"Being an unemployed bum is a better offer?"

"Yes, quite. Its low stress, no experience needed… I even get to pick my own hours."

Lily and Remus laughed. Draco scowled and wished he had no ear drums.

"You remember our wedding reception?' smirked Lily, rubbing her kneecaps. 'With the enchanted cake?"

Remus laughed and tapped his fingers along the edge of the book in his lap. "Sirius bewitched it to explode as soon as James went near it. We knew he wouldn't be able to keep his fingers out of it until after your first dance; when the two of you were supposed to cut it together."

"So, half way through the conga line…ka-_boom_!' giggled Lily, running a hand through her long red hair. 'The poor sap, he looked so funny with cream and icing dripping off him. Like a deer in headlights…pardon the pun."

"They were Animagi for six years. Trust me, there have been worse puns."

Draco looked up at Lily and frowned. "Your husband was Animagi too?"

Lily looked at him and hesitated, her old defensiveness and sense of caution kicking in like it always used to whenever the possibility of James's biggest secret being exposed was presented. But she figured that if he knew about Sirius and Peter, it wouldn't matter much anymore if he knew about James too.

She nodded. "Yes, he was."

Draco said nothing, just pursed his lips and went back to his book.

Lily continued to look at him long after he'd looked away. He was a strange one sometimes. In odd moments, he would almost seem normal. He'd almost seem like Harry, Ron and Hermione, just a good kid trying to make it in an adult world…but then she would blink, and she would see him for what he really was, and it would both anger and sadden her. Such talent and potential gone to waste…

"What are you reading?' asked Remus.

Draco held up the book but didn't take his eyes away from the pages. It was one of Harry's books, "_Where To Look When You Don't Know Where To Look_."

Remus looked at him. "You'll want to watch yourself. All this reading you've been doing lately, you're going to damage your eyes and then you'll…."

"If you finish that despairingly long lecture with the words 'you'll need glasses' I shall very promptly wedge this book of Potter's down your throat.' Said Draco calmly.

"A big gold start for imagery.' Said Lily, giving him a thumbs-up.

"Do I detect a hint of vanity, Draco?' taunted Remus.

"No Malfoy has ever needed something so primitive and degrading as 'glasses', and I will not be the first.' Said Draco promptly. 'The wire clashes horribly with my complexion…unlike yours, Lupin, which would do well with a splash of moisturizer every once in a blue moon. The wrinkles and their depth disturb me."

Lily covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile.

Remus fixed Draco with a look. "Don't snigger, Mr. Malfoy. You'll be old and grey yourself one day."

"I most certainly will not,' he turned the page of his book, and smirked. 'I'll be ash-blond."

"Assuming you don't go bald.' Retorted Remus with a smile.

Draco scowled and went back to his book.

Lily smiled at Remus, who was looking at Draco with a peculiar expression. "Oh, Remus, _now_ look what you did! You upset his delicate, adolescent vanity. Be careful, or his dad will sue your dad."

"Unless Lucius is fond of Muggle bottle caps he won't get much out of my father.' Smiled Remus, cracking his knuckles. He looked back at Draco and his smile fell. Draco had a hard, steely look about him, as if he were experiencing a stomach ache and yet was afraid to groan or show any sign of discomfort. Feeling surprisingly guilty, he changed the subject. 'Has Dora some to see you today, Draco?"

"I don't need daily check-in's.' said Draco flatly, tossing blonde strands of hair out of his eyes with a quick flick of his head. He looked up at Remus. 'And no, she hasn't. Why? Should she have? Has something happened to her? Do you think she's alright?"

"No, she's fine.' Said Remus hastily, putting a halt to Draco's frantic questions. 'I spoke to her this morning on the phone. She said she was going to try and come visit you today but wasn't sure if she'd get the chance. I was just wondering if she had, is all."

Draco was eerily still as his eyes narrowed at Remus, as if trying to contrive if he was being lied to or not. Remus felt unnerved to be looked upon so; normal teenage boys did not have this sort of intensity when trying to gauge a reaction from someone. Normal boys would be awkward or violently obvious in their attempts, but not Draco. He was almost intimidating, and Remus had to consciously remind himself that this was a _boy_.

After a long moment, Draco blinked and his expression seemed to soften. He said nothing, just went back to his book with a moody grace.

Remus blinked and looked at Lily. She was watching Draco with intrigue. He cleared his throat, put a hand on Lily's shoulder and got to his feet. "Well, speaking of Dora I have to get going. We're meeting for lunch. We're apparating to Tuscany for the afternoon.' He said with a dreamy grin.

"Oh, really? How lovely!' smiled Lily.

"How _disturbing_.' Said Draco over the top of his book. 'You shouldn't be gallivanting all over the world with Nymphadora; you should be here…helping…'

"Am I not supposed to have a private life?' asked Remus.

"No, because you're very, very old, and it's very, very gross.' Said Draco, going back to his book.

Remus gave him a withering look, then bent down and kissed Lily on the cheek. "I'll see you soon."

She nodded and gave his hand a squeeze. "Okay, you two have a good time."

And just as a loud CRACK signaled his departure, Harry entered the room, wearing his warm, black leather bomber jacket Lily had bought him a few weeks back and his Gryffindor scarf slung over his arm.

Lily beamed at him as he crossed over to them. "Hey, honey!

Harry smiled down at her, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket. But the smile was wiped off his face as he spotted Draco at the head of the table, his nose still in his book.

He looked at Draco with the usual disappointment. "Dammit, Malfoy…can you just _die_ already?"

"Funny,' said Draco, giving Harry a false smile, 'I was just thinking the same thing about you."

"Are you going out?' said Lily loudly, cutting through their verbal tennis match.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I came downstairs to get a drink first though." He pulled his wand out from his back pocket, waved it at the dining table and conjured a tray bearing a pitcher of Pumpkin Juice and goblets out of thin air.

Lily grinned. "Look how good you are at conjuring. Ah, I am so _proud_ of you…"

"Not as good as Dad though, right?' smiled Harry, pouring himself a drink.

"Sometimes, I don't think even McGonagall was as good as your Dad.' Said Lily with a smile.

Harry went to take a drink, when his eyes locked on Draco. The blonde looked, by all accounts, deeply absorbed in Harry's book he had leant him without permission, but Harry knew that distant look. It was the look you got when your attention was on something else but you were trying to pretend you were busy doing something else. He pursed his lips, hesitated, and then against his better judgment put the goblet down in front of Draco.

"Here,' he said stiffly, 'have some."

Draco looked up at Harry, and then looked at the goblet, as if it were quite beyond his ability to work out what had just happened. Draco leant forward on his elbows and peered over the top of the book and into the goblet curiously.

"You didn't put poison in here, did you?' asked Draco.

"Drink it and find out.' Smirked Harry.

"Harry, don't be a toe-rag.' Said Lily, giving her son a look. 'Just drink it, Draco, its fine."

Draco didn't look convinced.

"So,' said Lily, getting to her feet and coming around to stand with Harry as he filled up another goblet and took a long draught from it. 'Where are you off to? In the middle of the day? Without any of us, including me?"

Harry smiled and swallowed his mouthful. "I'm just going into London for a while, that's all. I didn't realize I needed permission."

"Well, no, ordinarily you don't, but recent times should have wordlessly explained to you that its not the best time in the grand scheme of historical events to go walking around by yourself."

"You think Death Eaters are going to attack me in the middle of the day? In the middle of _London_?' chuckle Harry, taking another sip.

Lily fixed him with a stare. "Don't be so stupidly blasé. If Death Eaters wanted you they would go for you, regardless of whether you were in the middle of Muggle London or if you were at a Funeral or even if you were in the middle of dinner. They kill Muggle's every day without question; why would this time be any different?"

Harry took another long mouthful of his juice and considered his mother carefully. "I know all this, Mum. I know it better than anybody. But I can't let the risk stop me from living my life, now can I?"

"Hey, living life, I'm all for that. Hooray for viability and liberation. Its totally my bag…trust me, I lived through the seventies…' she said, rolling her eyes in a gesture that suggested she didn't want to touch that subject, 'but I just want you to be _careful_, alright? We've talked about this. You're not invincible, you're anything but. Everyone knows your face. You're a sitting duck by yourself. Take someone with you, for goodness sake. Set my mind at ease. Take Ron and Hermione…'

"I don't need bodyguards.' Said Harry shortly.

"Well _I'll_ come with you then."

"I don't want you to come with me."

"Oh now don't be like that.' She said, putting her hands on her hips. 'I know its embarrassing walking down the street with your _mother_, but…"

"No, it's not like that.' He smiled. 'I'm…well…I'm going Christmas shopping, you see."

Lily's eyes widened. "Oh."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, and I can't exactly buy your present with you there. And, call me crazy, but I can't see many Death Eater's waiting to ambush me in the fragrance department of Debenhams."

"You're going to get me perfume?"

"I didn't say that."

Lily pursed her lips. "I don't know, Harry…going out by yourself…"

Harry rolled his eyes. "This isn't the first time I've done something without you there to hold my hand, you know. I've had sixteen years of independence to know how to walk myself down to the shops and back."

She flinched, hurt by this realization. "Look, just…be careful, alright? _You_ might not want to use magic in public, but the Death Eaters…'

"If anything happens I'll do what I have to do, Ministry laws to buggery.' Said Harry sincerely. 'I'll just apparate out; I won't even take them on unless I have to, okay? Mum' I'm going to be fine."

"I'd really rather you didn't go."

"I know, but I don't want to be locked up in here all the time like Sirius was.' Said Harry. 'I need to go outside, Mum. Outside, where the world is. I need a few hours alone where I can pretend that I'm an average Joe on school holidays, not saviour of the whole world."

Lily put her hands on his shoulders. "I know you do, sweetheart. But if you would just take someone with you…"

Harry laughed and grabbed her wrists softly. "_Mum_…"

"Alright, fine!' said Lily, backing away with her hands held up in surrender. 'Go on then, go be a grown up. See if I care! I'll just sit at home with my knitting…"

"There's a good parent.' Said Harry patronizingly. He stepped forward and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. 'I wont be late, I _promise_."

"See that you aren't. You have chores to do and people to save.' Said Lily. 'And don't forget, Ginny's coming back this afternoon."

"How could I forget with you telling me every ten minutes?"

"So are you going to go with Molly to pick her up?"

Harry looked down at his feet. "I hadn't thought about it."

"The Weaslette is coming here _too_?' asked Draco suddenly.

Lily and Harry looked around at him, and Harry have him a sharp look. "She's coming home for Christmas, yes. And you'd better treat her right when she comes over otherwise I'll thrash you within an inch of your life…and then I'll take that inch."

Draco glared at him and then went back to his book.

"Ron's going,' continued Lily, as if there had been no interruption. 'So is Hermione."

"So?"

"So you should go too. I know you want to."

Harry laughed and shook his head. "You never give up, do you?"

Lily smiled and stroked his cheek with the pad of her thumb. "It's called 'tough love'. Get used to it."

Harry smiled and looked at Draco, ready to give him the usual 'rules and regulations' he delivered before he left the house…but Harry was surprised to find Draco not actually reading, but watching him and his mother. In the split second where there eyes met, Draco had a peculiar expression on his face. It was one of the more open expressions Harry could never remember seeing on his steely face. It was almost envious. Curious and envious. But the second Draco realized he was now being paid attention to again, he shut down and went back to his book.

Harry looked back at his mother. "Do you mind sitting with him again? I know its dismal and a reason for suicide, but…"

"No, of course not.' Said Lily, slipping her hands in the back pocket of her jeans. 'He's actually rather nice company if you like dry, nasty sarcasm."

Harry looked back at Draco and frowned. "You know the deal when I leave the house, right?'

"Piss off, Potter, would you? Take your pissy rules and your pissy hair with you"

"What did you say to me?"

Draco scratched his nose. "No wild parties, no phone calls to Hong Kong, no rearranging the furniture and no talking to the portraits."

"Something like that.' Muttered Harry irritably. He smiled at his mother, gave Draco one last cautious look and left up the stairs the way he came.

The house was very quiet today. The only people there were him, Draco (unfortunately), his mother, Ron and Hermione. No-one had dropped around on Order business because, well, there was none. This recent evaporation in Death Eater activity put Harry so far on edge he felt he would, as Ron would say, soon fall over the edge and into the murky water below. It was disturbing; for years the Death Eaters had been active, murdering and pillaging and other things that perhaps pirates would have done. For whatever reason they had gone quiet now, it was not going to be good when they came back swinging and cursing.

Harry had made it half-way down the hall and had just slung his scarf around his neck when the sound of whispered giggling caught his attention. He whirled around and saw, with shock, Ron and Hermione creeping toward him, their heads bent together and _holding hands_.

"Shh, Ron, be _quiet_!' laughed Hermione softly, hitting Ron in the arm. 'You'll disturb Mrs. Black…"

"So what?' whispered Ron, cupping her face with his hand. He leant in and kissed the corner of her mouth. 'She can watch for all I care. Who gives a stuff if…"

But Ron didn't finish, as he and Hermione both froze as they spotted Harry standing in front of them, his eyes wide with amazement.

A strange, alien occurrence then transpired for one of the few times in their friendships history: a long, awkward silence.

Harry just looked at them, hardly able to believe it. He knew it was going to happen. He _knew_. He'd known for years. He'd even pushed them together a few weeks ago, hoping it would happen. And yet, nothing had prepared him for actually seeing it. Seeing that his two best friends were now something more to one another. Something completely separate from the friendship the three of them had spent seven years molding, changing and perfecting. He was in shock, plain and simple, and could think of absolutely nothing to say.

Ron flinched at the silence mixed with Harry's expression. This was painfully awkward, and he wanted to say something witty or humorous to lighten the mood. But his mouth was dry and he found that he had no words; he had no voice. What was there to say? What was there to explain? Harry was a smart guy, he didn't need an explanation. He'd seen enough to know. Ron wanted to ease the shock; he wanted to unlink his hand from hers and step four feet away, but it seemed pointless now.

Hermione frowned regretfully. This was not the way she wanted Harry to find out about them. She had wanted to talk to him first…break it to him properly…not have him bump into them acting the goat like two teenagers giddy in love – even though that's actually what they were. She looked up at Ron, who looked mutely appalled with everything that was happening. Figuring neither he nor Harry were going to say anything or even had the ability to, she stepped forward, pulling Ron with her by their linked hands.

"Harry, we…we're…'

Hermione's voice seemed to snap him out of his shock. Harry's amazement quickly turned into amusement, and he folded his arms over his chest with a grin that would put a Cheshire cat to shame.

"So,' he said, feeling very pleased with himself for some reason, 'what's all this then?"

"Sod off, Harry,' groaned Ron, going a deep shade of red, 'isn't it bloody obvious by now?"

"Maybe it is,' chuckled Harry, wriggling his eyebrows teasingly, 'maybe I just want to hear you two verbally admit it."

Hermione sighed, but was unable to hide her embarrassed smile. "This is not how we wanted to find out, you know."

"Oh sure."

"No, it isn't! Harry, we swear, we didn't keep this from you deliberately,' said Hermione earnestly, 'we wanted to tell you as soon as it happened, but then the whole thing with Malfoy happened and…'

'…and there just never seemed to be a right moment…' said Ron.

"…because we're all so busy with Death Eater attacks…' said Hermione.

"…and it's not something we wanted to just blurt out over breakfast…' said Ron.

"Okay, God, _stop_!' cried Harry, putting his hands up defensively. 'Stop finishing each other's sentences, will you? It's too much adorableness to take in such a short amount of time."

Ron exchanged a look with Hermione. "So…you're not mad?"

Harry laughed. "Mad? Of course I'm not mad! You two are idiots!"

Hermione laughed, let go of Ron's hand and threw her arms around Harry. "Oh I'm so glad to hear that! I've been so worried that you'd…well, that…"

"That I'd throw a hissy fit and go all Mr. Dramatic because you two are together?' smiled Harry.

"Something like that.' Grinned Ron.

"Mad as hatters, the both of you.' Laughed Harry, letting go of Hermione. He sighed happily as Hermione moved back over to Ron and leant up again him; they linked hands again, this time with more enthusiasm. It was strange; in the back of his mind he could always imagine the two of them together, holding hands, being close like this in a way that their façade of a 'platonic' friendship would never allow, but physically seeing them was going to be something to get used to.

Ron looked at Harry's appearance. "You off, are you?"

Harry nodded, remembering what he was doing. "Yeah, I was. Going into London."

"So were we.' Smiled Ron.

"Not that we didn't deliberately not invite you…' said Hermione hastily.

"No, you want 'special alone time'…I get you.' Laughed Harry, knowing full-well how much couples appreciated their time alone. He probably would have felt upset at being left out once upon a time, but he wanted his own time alone today as well. 'I actually wanted to go out by myself too, so don't be offended, but I actually _did_ deliberately not invite you guys."

"No offence taken." Laughed Ron.

"Wait, you're going into London alone?' asked Hermione, frowning. 'Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, _Mum_, I'll be fine."

"I don't know, maybe one of us should come with you."

"I don't need supervision, Hermione. Besides you two are already going out."

"It's only a date; there'll be plenty more…"

Harry snorted.

Hermione frowned. "What's so funny?"

Harry laughed and shook his head. "You said 'date'."

"Hermione, he'll be alright. Not nag him,' Said Ron, giving Hermione a look. 'It's been quiet for weeks now! Why would they suddenly attack him out of no-where?"

"Because he's Harry Potter, and because they want him dead!' snapped Hermione.

"Oh, we're going to talk about _me_ now, are we? Goody.' Muttered Harry, fading into the background of another of their arguments about him.

"Maybe this is part of their plan!' said Hermione harshly, giving Ron 'the eye' that said 'I have a theory and on your head be it if you don't agree'. 'What if this is what they're hoping for? Lulling Harry into a false sense of security, where he will think its okay to go out by himself, and then…_bam_! They attack! It only takes a split second, Ron. It only takes one second…' she clicked her fingers in his face, '…for it all to be over. What if they've been planning this all along? What if they're outside, waiting for Harry right now?"

"What if you're a paranoid bint who needs to lay off the caffeine?' said Ron, looking at her as if she'd gone mad.

"Guys, please don't fight.' Said Harry, playing mediator once again. 'You're about to go on a date!' he took a moment to chuckle silently to himself. 'This isn't the sort of start you want to a nice Sunday lunch together, now is it? Don't make me separate you two."

Hermione and Ron looked at once another bashfully and smiled.

"Sorry.' Muttered Ron.

"I'm sorry too.' Said Hermione, giving his hand a squeeze. And then she whirled on Harry. 'If I come back and hear you've been captured or killed I'll rescue you or resurrect you and kill you myself. Do you understand me?"

"Stop your fussing, will you?' laughed Harry, flipping one end of his scarf over his shoulder. He stepped forward, kissed Hermione on the cheek and pulled his wand out of his pocket. 'I'll see you two later. Have a good lunch!"

"Well, wait, are you coming with us to…' started Ron, but Harry had disapparated before he could finish. '…pick Ginny up from the station." He finished lamely.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Ron's waist, leant up and kissed him quickly on the mouth to get his attention. She wasn't surprised when it worked. "Come on; let's go to lunch before I start worrying about him."

"You mean you actually stop?"

-----------------

Harry walked leisurely down another aisle of books, shopping bags swinging at his side. He was again stumped for a book to get Hermione for Christmas, just as he was every year. It was surprisingly hard to find a book for Hermione. It should have been easy, shouldn't it? If it had pages with words, she'd want it. The trouble was to try and find something she didn't already have.

He tilted his head to the side as he read the spines of the hundreds of books and stopped when one caught his eye. _Jane Austen: Mansfield Park_. That would do fine.

He pulled it gingerly off the shelf and slowly made his way out of the stacks and toward the counter. With a small smile he wondered what Ron had gotten her this year. It would a whole different game now, now that they were 'a couple'. Hours later, it still hadn't properly sunken in. It just seemed so surreal that Ron and Hermione, _his_ Ron and Hermione, his two best friends before even they liked one another, were actually involved. Romantically. Together. They might actually get along now, but Harry wasn't going to hold his breath.

Harry waited in line behind an old lady at the counter to be served. What did this change mean for the three of them? It was scary to consider that an irreparable rift may be put in-between their circle. And even though Harry was immensely happy for the two of them, he couldn't help but think of what would happen if, God forbid, the two of them didn't work out. Would they be able to come back from something like that? Things would never been the same between them again. Would Harry have to play mediator? Would he have to choose? He couldn't do that. He wouldn't. What if they left? He couldn't handle that either. He didn't know who he was without Ron and Hermione. He didn't know how to be Harry Potter without them.

He shook his head and blinked. No, he was being silly. Hermione and Ron would not have gone into this lightly. They would have thought about all this already. They would have known the risks. Harry smiled, proud that they had gone for it anyway. He had been worried that Hermione would push Ron away. Obviously Ron was more persuasive that Harry gave him credit for.

"Just the one, dear?"

Harry blinked and looked around at the woman at the check-out. She was looking at him, as if worried that he was all sixes and sevens. "Oh, er…yeah, just this one please."

"Jane Austen, I love her work.' Beamed the woman, scanning the barcode with a 'beep'. 'Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorites. For your girlfriend, is it?"

"No, no…just a friend.' Said Harry, getting out his wallet.

He handed over the twenty pound note with a slouch. _Girlfriend_. He still didn't know whether or not to get Ginny something. Yes, he had gotten her a gift for her birthday, but he had immediately regretted it afterward. It was things like that that were making it harder to keep her out of his head and his heart. He needed to be vigilant where she was concerned. She was far too important to have it all blown on a silly Christmas present.

Book paid for and packaged, Harry left the book store and joined the flowing stream of fellow Christmas gift shoppers out walking the chilly streets on London. His mother would know what to do in this situation, but he didn't dare ask her. Knowing her, she'd make him buy Ginny something spectacular in hopes of putting them back together. Mothers…so interfering…

Harry's breath turned to fog in the chilly air as he looked out over the Thames. He didn't know what to get his mother either. She'd made it clear before that perfume would be a sure-fire winner, but perfume just didn't seem right. Jewelry? No, she had enough of that and he didn't know her ring size. Clothes? He hated getting clothes; at the risk she would hate it. Money? Honestly, who gave their parents _money_? It was surprisingly difficult to buy her a present. She was his mother…it should have been a piece of cake…

But then, he'd never had to buy for a parent before.

But he couldn't not get her anything. What kind of son would he be, not getting her anything on their first real Christmas together? This was a special occasion in more ways than one; he had to get her something brilliant. Something wonderful. Something she could boast about to her friends. And then he had to get something for Remus as well, and for McGonagall…

Did Voldemort get his Death Eater's present for Christmas? He doubted it somehow. The image of them sitting around a tree, drinking eggnog and singing 'O Come All Ye Faithful' put a smile on his face.

He heard the dull, distant tones of Big Ben and looked down at his watch. Three o'clock. The Hogwarts Express would be pulling up soon, bearing with it all the students coming home for Christmas break. Bearing Ginny. He stopped in his tracks and hesitated, looking at his surroundings. There was an apparition point just around the next corner up ahead. He could apparate onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters and still have time to spare. But there were more shops up the road back around in the direction he had just come. He needed to get more gifts and didn't know if he would get another opportunity…

Harry made his decision. Shivering against the cold, he balled his hands into fists, slipped them in the pockets of his jacket and went back the way he came.

------------------

"Will you stop fidgeting?"

"I can't help it! I'm cold!"

"No, you're agitated."

"Yeah, and I'm cold. Even my agitation is cold…which is probably why it's agitated."

"Say 'agitated' again."

"Agitated."

Hermione rubbed her hands together as Ron danced on tip-toes beside her, his eyes on the approaching scarlet train. "Just stop it, will you? You look like you need to go to the toilet!"

Ron shivered. "I don't even think I could! I think I'd pee icicles or something…"

The platform was full of anxious parents, all of them eager to see their child step off the train and be in their arms once more. There was a vibe of eager anticipation amongst everyone and, for Ron and Hermione, it was a strange experience. They had only ever come home for Christmas twice, and never had they been the one's waiting for someone to arrive.

He groaned and folded his arms over his chest, wedging his hands under his armpits. "Reckon I can summon that train here? Look at it, going so slow…it is mocking me with its slowness…"

Hermione rolled her eyes and walked away from him. "I don't know you right now."

"Yes…move at glacial pace…' muttered Ron, glaring at the approaching steam engine as he followed after Hermione, '…you know how that thrills me…"

"Ah, there you two are!' beamed Mrs. Weasley, opening her arms as Hermione approached with Ron tagging along behind. 'I'm so glad the both of you could be here. Arthur's tied up at work and Bill's still off somewhere with Fleur and…well, Ginny will appreciate it.'

"I's alright, Mum,' muttered Ron, shivering against the wind, 'we had nothing else to do."

"Aside from that saving the world thing.' Said Hermione.

"Oh yeah,' he laughed. 'I always forget that one."

Mrs. Weasley looked around. "No Harry?"

Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance. "No, Mrs. Weasley, he…' Hermione paused and folded her arms over her chest, '…he had things he needed to be doing today. I don't think he'll be coming to meet Ginny."

"Oh dear,' sighed Mrs. Weasley. 'She will be disappointed. She's already upset enough that I won't let her stay at Headquarters with all of you."

"She does know that was _your_ decision, right?' said Ron, giving his mother a look. 'I'm not going to end up with flying bogies all over my face because she thinks I don't want her there, am I?

"We need to spend a Christmas at the Burrow all together this year.' Said Mrs. Weasley determinedly, primping her hair as the train pulled up against the platform. 'I told Ginny that and she understands."

"The hell she does."

"What did you say to me, Ronald Bilius Weasley?"

"Nothing, Mum! Nothing!"

The great Hogwarts Express finally came to a stop with a screech and a lurch, and steam billowed from underneath its carriages like a mist, creeping over the platform and around people's ankles. The doors opened by themselves and students began filing out, brining with them pet cages with owls, cats and toads. The vibe changed from eager anticipation to excitement as kids began to reunite themselves with their families. Kids were happy to be home with their families and away from school, and parents, Ron thought with a grin, were happy to find their children still in one piece.

"Ah, here she is!' cried Mrs. Weasley, rushing forward and weaving her way through the crowd.

Ron and Hermione stayed where they were and followed the line of sight Mrs. Weasley was now following. And sure enough there was Ginny, peering over the shoulder of a very tall, very much changed Colin Creevy as he stepped down off the carriage in front of her. Luna was behind Ginny, chatting away, her big blue eyes scanning over everything. Colin put his owl cage down and turned to help Ginny down. Ginny frowned at his outstretched hand as if insulted, slapped his hand away and leapt off the carriage and onto him. Colin was almost bowled over from the impact, but he just caught her, both of them laughing their heads off as he put her down on the ground properly. Luna stepped down off the carriage gracefully, taking Colin's offered and with a smile, and with a wave made her way off to find her father. Ginny and Colin waved good-bye, and then Colin reached into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out something small, fuzzy and pink – Arnold. He put him on Ginny's shoulders and Ginny smiled at him warmly.

Ron frowned, interested by this interaction. "Since when is Ginny such good friends with Colin Creevy?"

"Since the inception of the Harry Potter Fan Club, established 1992.' Grinned Hermione. She laughed at Ron's expression, grabbed his hand and began to lead him over to where Ginny was, having said good-bye to Colin and now in a tight embrace with her mother. 'Ginny has lots of friends, you know that."

"Yeah, but _Colin Creevy_?"

"What's wrong with Colin?"

"He's a dork!"

"So are you."

"Yeah, but I'm an adorable dork.' Smiled Ron, ruffling his hair in a way that would rival Gilderoy Lockhart.

"So is Colin.' Smirked Hermione, noticing the changes in Colin like most other girls already had.

Ron grimaced. "You did not just say that in front of me."

Hermione laughed and let go of Ron's hand as they finally arrived at the Weasley welcome party.

"Oh Ginny, sweetheart, my baby girl…"

Ginny patted her mother on the back, looking rather embarrassed with her mother sobbing into her shoulder. "Mum, honestly, we're in _public_…"

"Get off her you batty woman.' Laughed Ron, patting his mother on the shoulder. 'You're going to drown her with your tears."

"Yes, you're right, sorry sweetheart.' Smiled Mrs. Weasley, pulling away from her daughter. She wiped her eyes and frowned at Ginny critically. 'You're looking a little peaky, dear, are you eating right?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "_Yes_, Mum." She looked at Hermione and just as Arnold hopped happily over to Mrs. Weasley shoulder; Ginny slipped her arms around her best friend with a moan of happiness. "Hermione! It's _so_ good to see you."

Hermione laughed and hugged her warmly. "It's good to see you too! You're looking well.'

"See?' said Ginny, pulling away from Hermione and giving her mother a look. 'I'm not peaky, I'm looking well.' She smiled up at Ron and was instantly hugging him, her arms wrapped around his middle and her head resting in the crook of his neck in a warm bear hug. 'Hello, Big Brother."

"Hey, Gin. Good trip? With Colin?"

Ginny's eyes flew open, and she looked up at him. "What are you on about?'

Hermione sighed and hit Ron in the arm. "Don't mind him, his brain cells have frozen along with the rest of his body."

Ginny smiled, pulled back away from Ron and looked around the platform. Her smile fell when she realized that the person she had most been hoping to see wasn't there. She wasn't all together surprised; a part of her had expected him not to be there. It would have been too hard for either of them to pretend that they weren't extremely happy about seeing one another again after three months apart. She had expected this to happen, but she was still disappointed.

Mrs. Weasley sighed happily and patted Ginny on the shoulders. "Well, let's get home, hey? I'll make us all some split-pea soup. Its freezing, you'll catch your death in that school uniform. And honestly, Ginny, they give you robes for a reason…"

Ron went and fetched Ginny's trunk from the pile laid out beside the train, and the four of them walked along the platform, chatting away and listening as Ginny caught them up on the latest Hogwarts gossip.

None of them saw the tall, black haired boy with glasses leaning against a wall at the other end of the platform, watching the three red-heads and brunette walk off together.

* * *

A/N – Whoa! A long chapter hey? I might not be able to churn out another chapter for a while, so hopefully this one will see you through! Let me know your fave part or line. You know I love to know these things!

Please review!


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35!

* * *

"Harry! Thank God, I've been looking for you everywhere!"

Harry frowned, but didn't look up as a pair of legs wearing ripped jeans entered his peripheral vision. "What is it, Tonks?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Not right now, okay? I'm extremely busy."

Tonks sat down on the desk Harry was standing over and looked down at the little square gift he was, very unsuccessfully, trying to wrap. The corners were all crookedly folded, and there were little balls of scrunched up tape all around it. Strips of tape were attached to his fingers as he tried to wrap, but as he stuck one corner down another would pop back up. He looked to be all thumbs, and it was an amusing irony that the Boy Who Lived, destroyer of Voldemort sixteen years ago and who had cheated death several times after that, could not even properly wrap a Christmas present.

She rubbed her mouth gently, hiding her grin. "Would you like a hand?"

"No! I can do it myself, thank you!"

"So I see."

Harry slammed his hands down on the table and looked up at her with a glare. "Do you mind? I am quite capable of doing this alone, even though _some_ people don't seem to think so. I don't need anyone hovering over me, giving me step by step instructions…"

"Was the Helicopter's name 'Hermione' by any chance?"

"Yeah, actually…how did you know that?"

Tonks smiled. "I passed her out in the hallway. She didn't seem all that impressed about being told to bugger off."

Harry pursed his lips in an attempt not to smile. "Well, she kept trying to give me _tips_…"

Tonks tiled her head to the side to take a look at what it was Harry was trying to wrap. "_'The Beatles: Greatest Hits'_?"

"Yeah, it's Mum's favorite band. I couldn't think of anything else to get her.' Said Harry. He looked up at her in alarm. 'Why, is that okay? You don't think she'll like it?"

"No, don't be silly!' laughed Tonks. 'If that's what she's into then I'm sure she'll love it – especially seen as its coming from you."

"It's pathetic.' Said Harry dismally, looking down at the gift woefully. 'This is our first good and proper Christmas together, and all I'm giving her is a crummy CD. Nothing says 'I love you and I'm glad you're not dead anymore' like a round, shiny piece of plastic."

Tonks laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't fret, all I got _my_ Mum for Christmas was a 'Rod Stewart in Concert' video. Children are inherently pathetic and buy the parentals gifts – its just basic human biology."

Harry shrugged and went back to his wrapping. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Well, er…' she trailed off and ruffled hair spiky pink hair. 'I actually wanted to ask you for a small, tiny, miniscule little favor."

Harry looked up at her with slow settling dread. "Tonks, if you're about to tell me you've had Snape locked up in your basement for the past two months and you want him to come and live here with us, then…'

"Oh no! No! _God_ no!' said Tonks hastily. 'Draco was one thing, but _Snape_! What kind of person do you think I am?"

"Well, I was worried you might have been developing some sort of 'lost puppy' complex.' Said Harry.

"I'm over that, _trust_ me.' said Tonks insistently.

Harry pursed his lips. "What is it about then if it's not about Snape?"

"Well, as you know its Christmas tomorrow…'

"Really? I had no idea." He said sarcastically.

"…and people should be with their families at Christmas, right?' continued Tonks. 'Because that's what Christmas is all about after all, isn't it? Spending time with your family and…and having family time…"

"Tonks, I get the family part.' Said Harry, looking up at her again. 'What is it you want?"

Tonks pursed her lips. "I want Draco to spend Christmas with me."

Harry's expression brightened into a lightness that hadn't been seen on his face in what seemed like years. "You do? Brilliant! Take him! Don't bring him back!"

"I didn't think you'd object to that part.' She grinned. 'But there's more. I want him to spend Christmas with me and my mother…'

"Good, even better. _She_ can take him."

"…and with his mother.' Finished Tonks softly.

Harry's expression instantly fell. He straightened up and looked at Tonks with a steady gaze but Tonks, like anyone who knew Harry well enough, knew that this silence was like that moment of dead quiet you heard before a nuclear bomb went off.

He laughed and frowned. "Go look for your marbles, Tonks, I think you've lost them somewhere around here…"

"I know this sounds outrageous, Harry, I do…"

"Tonks, nearly every word you say to me lately sounds outrageous.' Said Harry, his voice lowering dangerously with ever syllable. 'You can't actually be serious about this, can you? She's a Death Eater! And you want him to spend Christmas with her like he's been stuck at school or something?"

Tonks sighed and ran her hands stressfully through her pink hair. "I know I probably have no right in asking you this, considering the last favor I asked you for…"

Harry laughed bitterly and looked at her in amazement. "Tonks, you're really starting to worry me! First you take Malfoy in for whatever bloody reason it was, and now you want to reunite him with his _mother_? Do you realize how dangerous that is?"

"No, Harry, I'm completely stupid."

"Well, you must have some sort of mental illness, because what you want is just insane! Malfoy's seen far too much here. He'll go and blab it all to her, and then she'll blab it onto Voldemort and _don't flinch when I say his name_!"

Tonks sighed, gathering her wits about her. "Harry I will not be leaving him alone with her for one single second!' said Tonks. 'That's why I'm taking my Mum with me, to… 'ease the transition' somewhat."

"Ten gallons of axle grease couldn't ease _that_ transition.' Snapped Harry irritably.

"My mum knows her better than anyone!' said Tonks. 'I wouldn't be doing this if that wasn't a fact. Draco needs to be with someone who cares about him for Christmas, who actually gives a damn about him, even if only for a few hours. Would you really rather him here with you, on a day you planned to spend with your mum?"

"I'd really rather him in Azkaban; that way he could spend Christmas with his father.' growled Harry. 'Did you consider sending him there?"

Tonks narrowed her eyes. "It's just a few hours, Harry! And I'll bring him right back again, I swear!"

"Its not the coming back part I'm worried about, it's the dinner conversation the two of them will be having over roast turkey and wine!' cried Harry. He shook his head, took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. 'Sometimes I have to wonder what he's done to you in these past few months. You're not the same person you used to be, you know."

"We're not talking about me, Harry, we're talking about Draco.' Said Tonks. 'He's not going to say anything to her! He won't!"

"How do you know that?"

"Because he'd die if he did!' cried Tonks. 'The Unbreakable Vow, do you remember that? He swore to you that he wouldn't reveal anything to Death Eaters. He swore to you he wouldn't talk to anyone outside this house!"

"That was his choice.' Said Harry, putting his glasses back on. He folded his arms over his chest. 'He knew the consequences of that choice and he went through with it anyway. No-body forced him. No-body twisted his arm into it."

"Of course he chose this, Harry; being here is ten million times better than being there.' She said earnestly. 'If he had been rejected here he would have gone back to the Death Eaters… back to the Dark Lord… and they would have killed him! He failed them, and you don't walk away from something like that when you're on their team. Draco may have made a lot of bad choices last year, and he may be an insufferable, arrogant pillock who doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut…. but he's just as scared of You-know-who as you or me or anyone else. He's been through a lot, and it may seem like he's got everything under control, but he doesn't. He's still just a _teenager_. He doesn't want to _die_!"

Harry found himself actually understanding her point for the first time in a long while. He knew better than anyone how that feeling was; that raw feeling to stay alive, no matter how you went about it. He also knew the unfairness of it all. Tonks was right; they were all just teenagers. Just barely seventeen, still going through that 'almost finished puberty' stage. Harry still hadn't properly grown any hairs on his chest, and yet he had already faced death head on several times – far more than any normal teenager. Yes, he knew what he had to do, and yes, he was prepared to do it now…but that didn't mean he wasn't scared to death. He'd been terrified for so long he could barely remember what a dreamless sleep or a casual walk down the street felt like; what if felt like to be calm. No seventeen year old should have to feel like that; not even Malfoy.

Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Even if I do let you take him, how do you even plan on contacting Narcissa, let alone convincing her to come?"

Tonks smiled. "I have plans."

He was silent.

"Come on, Harry; I know you don't want him here with you. I'm offering to get him out of your hair! It's the best offer you're going to get. Hell, I'm willing to bet it's the _only_ offer you're going to get!"

Harry was still silent. The opportunity to get rid of Draco for a day was very tempting. He certainly didn't want his rat face hanging around the house while Harry spent the evening with his mother and Tonks was right; no-one else would take him.

"What's Remus doing?"

"He's spending the day with his parents; otherwise he would come with me."

"And your mother's okay with going with you?"

"Not really, but I convinced her."

Harry frowned at her, being pulled in two different directions. Curse this offer and its temptation. He bet this was an offer the Devil made to Jesus, 'See that ponce over there? The Roman bloke? I can get rid of him for you! You just say the word, sign on the dotted line, and he'll be lighting boiler #4957937 for the rest of eternity with his 'Jolly Rodger'. Sound good? Eh, J?'

Tonks's shoulders slumped. "He misses her."

"He told you this?"

"He doesn't have to."

Harry shivered. He frowned at her, puzzled. "I don't get you two."

Tonks raised her eyebrows. "What's that?"

"You and him. What is it with the two of you?' asked Harry, suddenly intensely curious. 'You've never been close to him, you never even spoke. Why now? It doesn't make any sense."

"Does it have to?' asked Tonks, shrugging.

"It would be nice.' Said Harry. 'I just…don't get it."

"Maybe you're not supposed to.' Said Tonks kindly.

Harry still considered her, his mind in a whirl of indecision. Send him…keep him…send him… keep him… he didn't know what to do. Should he get someone's opinion? No, he didn't need a second opinion. He wasn't a doctor looking at x-rays; he could make a decision like this on his own. Another sudden thought popped into his head; he was reminded of something Ron kept saying to him when he was indecisive like this:

_W.W.D.D, Harry. What would Dumbledore do? _

Harry let a small smile grace over his face. He looked up at Tonks, who was still waiting anxiously for an answer. "If you think you can stay in control of all this, then fine… take him."

"Yes! Harry, you are a most gracious leader. Remind me to buy you something extra special next holiday season."

"Yeah yeah, alright.' Grumbled Harry, pushing Tonks away as she tried to hug him. 'Just bloody well get him out of here, will you?"

"Well, actually you need to physically come and tell him he can leave to his face, other wise…"

"Oh _alright_!' cried Harry. 'Can I at least wrap this present first?"

Tonks grinned and patted him on the back. "Well, you could try."

"Bugger off, Tonks, before I curse you."

------------------

Hermione couldn't recall the last time she had salivated while reading.

She was lounging on the couch down in the living room in front of the warm, crackling fire; her feet were up on the cushions and a book was unfolded in her lap. The smell of cooking was consistently wafting up from the kitchen, and Hermione's mouth was watering so much it was cramping. Mrs. Potter was down there with Mrs. Weasley, the both of them cooking up a storm together. The two red-headed women had locked themselves downstairs two hours ago and no-one had heard from them since. Hermione would have suspected the two of them were simply down there getting drunk on cooking Sherry together if it weren't for the tantalizing aromas of Roast Pork wafting throughout the lower floors of the house.

The day had been planned weeks in advance with a regime even Ron had memorized. Their entire morning, including lunch, was going to be spent at Grimmauld Place with Harry, and then for the remainder of Christmas Day they were all going to break up and spend time with their respective families. Ron was going home to The Burrow with the rest of his family, and she was going to go home to her parents. Everyone had seemed to have reached a silent consensus that they should make themselves scarce, and that Harry should spend most of the time alone with Lily. It was, after all, their first real Christmas together.

At the moment, everyone was in a casual lull of pre-feast relaxation. Presents had been opened, well-wishes had been exchanged and hugs of affection had been shared. All the while it felt a little traitorous or inappropriate that they should all be so joyous and complacent when there was a war going on, but they still had not had any attacks in weeks, and while it was unsettling it was also kind of nice to be able to have such an important day off. The knowledge that her parents were going to live through another day put Hermione's mind at ease, at least for the time being.

"So, what _did_ you get Ron, then?"

Hermione looked up from her book over at Ginny, who was sitting on the adjacent sofa, her legs curled up underneath her with Crookshanks in her lap. He was purring as Ginny's long fingernail managed to scratch the right spot just behind his ear.

Hermione smiled and went back to her book. "Never you mind."

"You gave it to him in private, consider me highly intrigued! Is it sexy, compelling underwear?' teased Ginny.

"Do I seem like the type to own anything under the category of 'sexy'?"

"Oh, I don't know,' sang Ginny, grinning, 'Mum always said to look out for the quiet ones. And I know you didn't go all the way to France three summers ago and not pick up anything completely naughty and provocative."

Hermione scoffed. "Honestly, Ginny! I was fifteen at the time _and_ with my parents!"

"Yeah, but you still had a major Jones for Ron back then, didn't you.' Laughed Ginny.

"You know, your mouth is flapping, but I can't understand a word your saying.' Said Hermione, turning the page of her book idly.

Ginny laughed again, but her giggles died in the air as someone new walked into the room. Hermione didn't even look up to know who it was as a dark shadow descended over her book, signaling the presence of someone standing over her.

"And she's reading again,' he drawled, 'how novel."

Hermione sighed. "Good-bye, Malfoy."

"Did you get the novel thing? Because…"

"I said good-bye."

"Can't you take hints, Malfoy?' snapped Ginny.

Draco, who had been frowning down at Hermione with his arms folded over his chest, turned to consider Ginny. "They're covered in Gryffindor drool, Weasley, and my delicate hands cannot grip them."

Ginny huffed angrily and looked into the fire.

Hermione looked up at him. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"A house in the country, a good pair of running shoes you can also wear to dinner…"

"_Malfoy_!"

Draco pursed his lips. "I'm looking for Potter, have you seen him?"

Hermione blinked, momentarily startled. It wasn't often, or ever, that he actually sought Harry out willingly. "Er… he was upstairs with Ron last I saw. Why?"

"It's none of your concern, Granger. Weasley, please remove that scrap of evolution from my sight,' added Draco, looking down at Crookshanks with dislike, 'my retina's are already horrendously damaged from your hair, and don't need to suffer any more abuse."

"At least if I tiled my head in the sun I wouldn't blind people with the glare like yours would.' Snapped Ginny, hugging Crookshanks closer to her.

Draco put a hand to his heart. "You lash me with your words."

Ginny reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand. "I'll lash you with something else in a minute."

"And get expelled? I bet Mummy and Daddy would just love – _ow_!"

Ron, who had entered the room without anyone noticing, had casually walked past Draco and whacked him harshly up the back of the head. "Don't be more of a gitface than you already are, Malfoy."

Draco rubbed the back of his head and glared at Ron as he sat down on the sofa beside Hermione. "Tis the season to be jolly, I see."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?' asked Ron, settling in as Hermione stretched her feet out and put them in his lap. 'Like hell?"

Draco's cheeks went pink and his fists shook at his side. It was evident how much he wanted to hit Ron, and it was even more evident from the smug smirk on his face how much Ron was enjoying the fact that Draco wouldn't.

"He's looking for Harry.' Said Hermione softly. 'I thought he was with you."

"He was, he's upstairs.' Said Ron, giving Draco a suspicious look. 'What do you want with him?"

"Children, Weasley. Seventeen scruffy, ugly, speckled little children.' Snapped Draco sarcastically, and with that he walked off out of the room.

Ron quirked an eyebrow. "What's got his knickers in a knot?"

"Oh, you mean besides being forced to live with your worst enemies and not being able to pummel them in the face when you get mad at them for prodding you endlessly with taunts?' asked Hermione airily. She shrugged and turned the page of her book. 'I have absolutely no idea."

"Okay, at this point you're abusing sarcasm.' Said Ron.

"At least Tonks is taking him away today.' Said Ginny, putting her wand back in her pocket. 'Having him at Christmas Lunch, making small talk with him like 'Hey, guy-who-killed-Dumbledore-but-isnt-being-tortured-by-Dementors-in-Azkaban, can you pass the gravy?' and just having to look at him is just too darn _weird_! I don't know how his parents did it."

"His parents loved him." Shuddered Ron, repulsed by the idea of anyone loving Draco.

"They _still_ love him.' Said Hermione insistently. 'Just because they're a little scattered at the moment doesn't mean they love him any less, or him them. Why do you think he did all that he did last year?"

"Because he's a smarmy, evil git?' said Ron.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "I hope one day, for your sake, you can see past this rivalry you have with him and see outside the square. See his motivation. See the way he thinks like Tonks did. It may make you more tolerant of him, you know."

Ron folded his arms over his chest. "No. Shant."

Ginny folded her arms over her chest as Crookshanks leapt off her lap and ran out of the room after Draco. "So, Ron…what did you get Hermione for Christmas?"

"What did _you_ get Hermione for Christmas?' he countered, his ears going red.

"That scarf, you remember?' said Hermione nudging him with her heel. 'The red one. Ginny knitted it for me."

Ron looked at Ginny, surprised. "You can knit?"

Ginny shrugged. "Hermione taught me."

"So…you can knit?"

Hermione hit him with her book.

"Well, with you lot gone it's become very boring at Hogwarts.' Said Ginny. 'I've had to do _something_ to occupy myself. Breaking school rules just doesn't have the same effect when you're by yourself."

"Colin doesn't go with you?' asked Ron suspiciously.

"Sometimes he does, but it isn't the same. You guys…' she paused and smiled. 'It's just not the same."

Hermione smiled at her. "You miss it?"

"I miss you.' Said Ginny. 'All of you. Without you guys there it's like some sort of parallel universe. I miss how things used to be. How _we_ used to be. Sometimes, I miss it so much I can't sit still. Don't get me wrong, my friends are great and I love them, but…' she trailed off and shrugged. 'At least I'm home for Christmas."

"It's not that much more interesting here than it is at Hogwarts, Gin, trust me.' said Ron, rubbing Hermione's ankle. 'I mean, all we really do here is read, and fight, and eat, and read, and fight, and read, and break in and enter, and read, and rob museums and…did I mention read?"

"Don't make it sound dull just to make me feel better.' said Ginny.

"Oh, no,' said Ron, shaking his head, 'it's dull without my help."

"You have to realize that Hogwarts is the safest place.' Said Hermione. 'Your parents just want you out of harms way."

"Its not fair that all you _boys_ get to be here and _I_ don't.' said Ginny, looking at Ron with a mixed expression of anger and envy. 'And it doesn't seem fair that I can't be here and Malfoy can!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Gin, you know that if Harry could he'd have you here instead of Malfoy in an instant!"

Ginny looked into the fire. "Somehow I don't think so."

"You know he would if…if it was…' Ron trailed off and took another road. 'Have you spoken to him today? Or at all? It _is_ Christmas after all, and I know you've been avoiding each other and I know why, but…"

"I'm going to help Mum.' Said Ginny shortly, cutting Ron off.

Ron and Hermione watched Ginny leave, a slump to her shoulders she seemed unable to shake off since last June. The air of tension and misery seemed to follow in her wake, like a bad smell that followed her wherever she went.

Hermione hit him again with the book.

"Ow!' cried Ron, rubbing his arm. 'Hermione! Enough with the whacking!"

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "I'm appalled that you still haven't developed even a basic knowledge of the skills 'tact' and 'good-timing'. What will I do with you?"

"What the sodding hell are you on about _now_? And that really hurt.' He grumbled. 'What was that for?"

"For making your sister miserable.' Said Hermione.

Ron gaped at her. "You told me to talk to her!"

"Yes, but not after she'd just had an encounter with Malfoy, and certainly not today of all days."

"She goes home in two days. If you don't want me to talk to her today, then when?"

"I don't know, but I trust you to make a right judgment.' Said Hermione.

Ron looked at her with mild surprise. "You…you do?"

Hermione looked up. "Do what?"

"Trust me."

"Ron…I trust you with my life.' Said Hermione, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'Don't you know that by now?"

Ron said nothing, just shrugged.

Hermione reached out and took his hand, linking her small, petite fingers through his large ones. "I've always known I could trust you. Even when we've fought and we've hurt each other so bad it seemed irreparable and I haven't been able to stand the sight of you, the one thing I was always sure of was that I trusted you. And I always will. You'd have to be a complete prat to shake it."

"Oh, I don't know,' chuckled Ron, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the back of her hand, 'it's been known to happen. It's that whole Dr Hyde and Mr. Jekyll thing Harry talks about sometimes."

"Actually, Ron, it's…' she paused and smiled, not even going to bother to correct him. 'Never mind."

Ron frowned. "Why are you grinning at me like that? In fact, why are you grinning at all? You were crazy mental lady the other day, and now you're all…_happy_."

Hermione smile only widened. "I'm just in a good mood."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'?' she laughed. 'It's Christmas! I'm with my friends! I'm reading Jane Austen…do I need another reason to be in a good mood?"

"You know what would put _me_ in a good mood?' growled Ron irritably.

Hermione blushed. "Many private things, I'm sure.' She said, lifting her feet out of his lap.

"Malfoy gone.' He spat, glaring into the fire.

"Gone from the house? Or gone from existence?"

"Either. I'm not fussed."

"Oh, now, don't be like that.' Said Hermione imploringly. 'It's Christmas. Cant you at least _try_ to be tolerant with him?"

"How about violent?' Asked Ron hopefully. 'Can I be violent with him?"

"Do you want me to answer that, or should I just glare?"

Ron sighed. "Come on, Hermione, it's like you said! It's Christmas! A time for family and presents and food and peace and other important things. Why can't I have mushy, violent thoughts about my mortal enemy? You know that's how _he'll_ be spending his Christmas."

Hermione pursed her lips. "If only everyone had the same ideals as you, Ron. There would be no war!"

"I detect more sarcasm from you.' said Ron, arching an eyebrow of suspicion. 'It's a new and scary experience. I don't like it."

"Christmas is only one day a year. It's the day of peace, of harmony, of good will toward all men.' She muttered something else, and Ron smirked when he heard the word 'sexist'. 'Cant you take one day out of the entire year to try and be civil? Try and act like an evolved human being, instead of some sort of cave man? 'You bad, me good. Me pummel you!'" Grunted Hermione, thumping herself in the chest.

"Oh sure, why not?' smiled Ron, getting to his feet and throwing his arms up in the air. 'Hey, seen as we're being so charitable, lets as Bellatrix over for dinner too! Maybe even You-Know-who!

'Ron, all I'm saying is…'

"No, Hermione, you're right! Now there's a _great_ idea! He and Harry can sort out all their differences over turkey and rum!'

"Now really, you're just being silly now…"

'Sorry for killing your parents, kiddo…I thought they were big, human-shaped spiders!', 'Oh, that's okay, sorry for putting you through ten years of torment, and thwarting all your plans even since, and made you feel like a big, dumb, bald prat.' Said Ron, doing alternate voices as he stalked out of the room. 'Oh, not a problem! Happens all the time! Say, pass the gravy, would you?', 'Oh sure! Least I can do…'

Hermione stretched her legs back out onto the sofa as he walked out of the room, continuing to ramble on in different voice tones. "And they think _I'm_ dramatic."

-----------

Narcissa was sure she had apparated into hell.

It must have been demonic possession, or divine intervention, or some sort of hex from the Underworld to make her even _consider_ responding. The first thing she noticed when she looked around her new surroundings, were the decorations. Even in the dim light, she could see the green and red tinsel, and the Christmas tree, and the sofas in front of the dead fireplace, and the small dining table not three feet away from her with plates and cutlery all set up. When she had received her letter two days ago, she thought that nothing would ever surpass the confusion she had felt when she had read it.

She had been wrong.

She remembered what she had been doing when the owl had arrived. She'd just locked herself in her bedroom back at the manor, slamming the door on her sisters face contorted with fury.

"_Cissy, this is absurd! You can't keep doing this!" _

_Narcissa leant back against the door, letting her head fall back and her eyes fall closed. "Bella, do not continue to presume that because you are the oldest that you can continue to try and run my life!" _

_The door handle jiggled, but did not turn. There was an angry grunt and a thump of a fist on the door, and Narcissa squeezed her eyes shut tighter. _

"_Cissy, let me in. I just want to talk." _

"_Oh yes, 'just talk' indeed!' yelled Narcissa over her shoulder. 'Bella, you possess many abilities, but talking calmly and rationally is not one of them!" _

"_Am I not allowed to worry about my baby sister?' said Bellatrix, her tone softer. But Narcissa knew Bellatrix well, and could hear the sly venom in her tone that suggested the sweetness of her voice was a cruel disguise; a means to get what she wanted. _

"_I didn't hear you worrying when Lucius was put in Azkaban.' Spat Narcissa. _

_There was a pause. "Lucius knew the consequences of failure, as do we all." _

_Narcissa held her silence. She didn't want to get into this again. She knew where it would lead. It was an argument she had had with Bellatrix many times over the past year, and it always took the same route – began with Lucius, ended with Draco. It wasn't enough that she lived with the aching of loss every day for her husband and son, let alone have her sister reminding her of it every other second she almost began to be able to soothe the pain. _

"_The Dark Lord…he has concerns, Cissy.' Said Bellatrix. 'And so do I. Your distance lately has been disturbing."_

"_I have reasons to be distant.' Growled Narcissa. 'The Dark Lord has shunned my husband and my son – forgive me if I have wavering doubts of my loyalty to a man who sends my family into turmoil." _

"_The Dark Lord _is_ your family!' snapped Bellatrix through the door. 'To have doubts is treason! Its treachery! Its…it's…' _

"_I am allowed to doubt.' Said Narcissa defensively. _

"_None of us is allowed to doubt!' cried Bellatrix, thumping her fist against the door again. 'Do you feel resentment toward our Lord, Cissy? Vengeance? Anger? Those are the emotions Potter feels, not us! Not you!" _

"_If it weren't for the Dark Lord and his plans, my son would not be on the run and my husband would not be in jail!" _

"_The Dark Lord did not force their decisions, Narcissa. They chose to serve because they understood. They understood what disloyalty meant, and so did you once!" _

_Narcissa balled her hands into fists. "Leave me, Bella." _

"_Cissy…" _

"_I said _leave me_!' she cried. _

_There was a long silence. Narcissa heard the scratching of fingernails against the door from the other side, as if Bellatrix were going to claw her way through the wood to get to her. The door handle turned slightly, but did not open. And after a few more long silent moments, something slid off the door from the other side and footsteps could be heard walking away. _

_Narcissa let out the breath she had been holding and slumped against the door. The Manor used to be the place where she could escape the dank, claustrophobic atmosphere of The Riddle House, but lately she was having more and more visitors, each of them making use of the magical texts in the library on the second floor, or helping themselves to Lucius's private potion stores. It was as if Malfoy Manor, their home, had been turned into the Death Eaters own personal Knockturn Alley. It was hard to let one's defenses down and grieve when there was always company around. _

_She looked around the bedroom she was holed up in and felt that usual pang in her chest. This had been their room. The room where she would lie in bed while her husband sat up beside her, reading a book by wandlight. Where they would talk, sometimes for hours, sitting in front of the fireplace with hands intertwined. Where they would make love, and where they had created their most valuable possession. Every room had memories, but this one always hurt the most. And yet, it was the room she always escaped to. _

_So involved in her thoughts was she, that it took her a good long minute to notice the tapping at the window. She looked up and saw a tawny owl sitting on the windowsill, rapping his beak harshly against the glass pane, demanding entry. She hurried over, unlatched the window and opened it outward, allowing the owl and cold December wind entry. It flew around the room in two quick circles and landed heavily on the back of the chair at her desk. _

_Narcissa went over to it, untied the letter from its outstretched leg and paid it its fare. It hooted and flew off back out the window just as she unsealed the envelope and pulled the letter out. She read it, and almost collapsed to the floor. _

**_We have your son. If you want to see him, apparate to his address on the 25th of December at 6 o'clock, sharp: _**

_And below were apparition co-ordinates. _

Back in the present, Narcissa's blue eyes narrowed as she looked around the room once more. From the tone of the letter, it has led her to presume that he was being held hostage by the Order or Cannibals or Accountants or something equally horrible, but this room was almost welcoming, as if they wanted her to be comfortable.

And where was Draco? They had him, they believed. By the looks of things, they only thing these people had were a horrific taste in Christmas décor. She looked at the clock. 6:01. Where _was_ he?

"Hello, Cissy."

Narcissa had the tip of her wand lit instantly. She whirled around and scanned the room, looking for the source of the voice. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

The person laughed. A woman. "So tense! Its Christmas, Cissy…relax a little!"

"Relaxation is a luxury I have long forgotten how to indulge." Growled Narcissa, turning in slow circles.

"Yeah,' chuckled the woman, 'I know that feeling."

Narcissa frowned and straightened up a little. She knew that voice. She lowered her wand a little, letting the silence stretch out even longer as she tried to find her voice. The room thrummed with an energy she hadn't felt in years, but would never forget. It was impossible…it couldn't be…

"Andromeda?' whispered Narcissa, speaking the name with the fearful hush she had been taught to use since the last day she'd ever seen her. 'Andromeda, is that you?"

There was movement suddenly out of the corner of Narcissa's eye, and she whirled around just as the fireplace burst into life. The room illuminated brightly, and she could now see the silhouette of someone sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, the top of their head of dark brown hair poking over the top. The woman stood up and turned to face Narcissa and smiled, and Narcissa almost dropped her wand.

She was the same height, just as she had always been despite their two years age difference. She was dressed in a pair of jeans, dark blue shirt and brown, knitted jacket. Her long, brown hair was out and rolled over her shoulders all the way down to her armpits. It framed her face, which had barely changed at all in twenty seven years. She was still the dazzling beauty she had always been, with her face like Bellatrix, only softer like Narcissa.

She smiled and folded her arms over her chest. "Hello, Cissy."

Narcissa swallowed. "Andromeda."

"The one and only. Because, honestly, I'm still yet to find another woman in the entire universe with my name.' she laughed.

"I don't understand.' Said Narcissa, tightening her grip on her wand. 'What are _you_ doing here?"

"Waiting for you.' Said Andromeda. 'I'm surprised you actually came."

Narcissa frowned. "_You_ sent that letter?"

"I did indeed."

"But…that wasn't your handwriting."

"No, Nymphadora wrote it.' Said Andromeda, coming around to stand opposite her sibling. 'I didn't think you'd respond if you knew I wrote it, considering how you haven't replied to any of my letters since I left."

Narcissa _nox_-ed her wand and pointed it accusingly at her sister, like an extension of her finger. "_You_ have my son?"

Andromeda frowned and smiled at the same time. "Of course not, you silly bint. Why would _I_ take him?"

"Where is he then? In the letter…"

"I don't have him.' Said Andromeda again, more firmly. 'But Nymphadora does."

Narcissa flared up. "Do you mean to say that my son…_my son_…has been held captive by _your_ daughter for the past _six months_?"

Andromeda paused, then shrugged. "Something like that, I presume, yes. I don't actually know all the details – Nymphadora is very secretive…the Auror she is and all…"

"Then why am I wasting my time with you?' snarled Narcissa. 'Where is your daughter? Where does she live? I demand you tell me this instant!"

"Narcissa, just calm down…"

"Calm down?' shrieked Narcissa, pointing her wand as her sister as she approached. 'Don't you _dare_ tell me to calm down! I have absolutely no reason to be calm! You lure me here under false pretenses, on _Christmas_, and you expect me to _calm down_?"

Andromeda blinked. "Do you have any idea how much you look like mother right now?"

Narcissa let out an angry cry and threw her arms up in the air. "Andromeda, I am not at all in the mood for these games! Now either you bring my son to me this instant or I will curse you and your despicable Muggle attire all the way down to Hades and do not for a moment think that just because you are my sister that I won't!"

Andromeda just looked at her, her lips pressed together pensively. This wasn't the way she'd wanted to spend their first real time together since she had been kicked out of home nearly thirty years ago. Out of both her sisters, she'd missed Narcissa the most. The baby. Being the middle sister, Andromeda had had the fortune of being able to have both an older sister to look up to (although she regretted having _ever_ admired Bella now) and a younger sister to protect. To set an example for. Not a day went by that she didn't wonder how things might have turned out had Narcissa followed Andromeda's example and walked away from family prejudices. Though both in their forties, looking at her little sister now, Andromeda couldn't help but feel another old, violent flare of protectiveness. She looked terrible; stressed, tired, and terribly thin – no doubt an affect from the war, at the very least. It couldn't have been easy to loose both your husband and your son in a matter of months. Andromeda knew she wouldn't be able to handle it if anything happened to Nympahdora or Ted. What were the Death Eaters doing to her? Evil, disgusting, heartless bastards…

"Is he here, or not?' asked Narcissa, her tone softer, almost desperate.

"Does anyone know you're here?' asked Andromeda.

"What does that have to do with…"

"Do they?" she asked again more firmly.

Narcissa pursed her lips, seething impatiently. "Of course they don't. If they were to find out I was going to see Draco, after…' she trailed off, looking away.

"And the letter I sent you?"

"I burnt it. I didn't need it, I had memorized it all."

Andromeda blew air out through her lips, considering the woman in front of her for a moment. She still didn't like this idea. After all her daughter's pleading and compromising and puppy-dog eyes and appeals to her father for back-up, she still didn't like it. It was venturing into a grey area that scarce few ever really understood. War wasn't the time for grey areas.

But maybe Christmas was.

Andromeda rubbed her arms, hunched her shoulders and let her head fall back, as if suddenly extremely bored. "Nymphadora? Bring him in!"

Narcissa whirled around to face the door instantly, her eyes wide and alert. She listened, for a moment only hearing the crackling of the fire and her own heart pounding loudly in her chest. But she quickly heard footsteps, and muffled voices which became clearer and clearer as they approached.

"…don't understand why we must huddle ourselves up in rat holes such as these."

"It's called 'Subtlety' – do look it up."

"What does that have to do with us having an extravagant Christmas? Nymphadora, your taste is terrible. See a physician about it as soon as humanly possible."

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's…'

But what is was, they never got to find out. The doors to the room had swung open, and Narcissa had, once again, nearly collapsed.

Draco was there. He was _there_! It was her boy. Her baby boy. Her pride and joy. He looked so different from the last time she had seen him, on the platform of nine and three quarters, sending him off to Hogwarts for his sixth year. His hair had grown a little, and was now falling into his eyes. His face was weathered, more angled and sharp, more defined and experienced. There was a different air about him, as if his dignity and elegance had been shifted aside, and he was now more modest and hesitant and… _ordinary_. Maybe it was the clothes he was wearing, jeans and an emerald green sweater, or maybe it was because of his cousin standing beside him, her hand wrapped around his arm from being in the middle of reprimanding him. Whatever it was, it was different. Strange. But none of it mattered in the moment when their eyes connected. He was there, and she was with him, and nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed.

Draco's normally expressionless face contorted into shock, his eyes widening as he spotted her. "_Mother_?"

Narcissa didn't think about anything in that moment. Forgetting that she was meant to be a woman of dignity, that she wasn't supposed to get emotional, that her sister and niece were even in the room, in one swift movement, she dropped her wand with a clatter and closed the distance between them, throwing her arms around his middle in a tight hug. He was almost a head taller than she was.

"Oh Draco…I'm so sorry … Draco…"

Draco flinched at the contact, his arms stiff as he looked at Tonks in amazement. She just shrugged and smiled and moved to stand with her mother, claiming innocence that Draco knew did not exist. After a long moment of his mother sobbing into his collarbone, Draco's senses kicked in and he put his arms around her, knowing that she was the only reason he was still standing.

"Draco, oh how I've missed you!' sobbed Narcissa. She pulled back and looked up at him properly. 'Draco, look at your complexion! What have they been feeding you?"

"Atrocities, mother.' Drawled Draco, looking over the top of her head at Tonks.

"I'm not at all surprised; look at how thin you are! You look like a ghost! And…' she paused and pinched at the sleeve of his jumper with distaste, 'and what on earth are you dressed as?"

Draco sighed. "A Werewolf, mother."

Narcissa sobbed again and hugged him tightly. "My son! Look at what you've been reduced to!"

Tonks and her mother exchanged a look, and rolled their eyes.

-----------------

"Here, open your gift!"

Harry grunted as a rectangular package was dropped into his lap. He looked up as Lily flopped down into the couch beside him, her face as alight as the fire they were sitting in front of. "You want me to open this now?"

Lily gave him a look. "No, I gave it to you to tease you."

"But what about clean up? The Weasley's made more mess than a bull in a China shop."

"Mess? Harry, you poor little simpleton.' Laughed Lily, patting his knee. 'We're witches! We can clean that lot up in there in ten seconds flat. Besides,' she said, undoing her belt and the button of her jeans, 'I'm far to full to move from this sofa any time soon. I feel Jabba the Hutt syndrome fast approaching, and dare not appose it."

Harry smiled and shook his head. "You're so lazy."

Lily smiled and nodded. "Just open your damn present already!"

With a resigned sigh, Harry put his mug of hot chocolate down on the floor, sat up from his lounging position and unwrapped his present. Carefully peeling the paper away, he tossed it aside to reveal a leather-bound book. The cover opened with the crackling of bending leather and on the front page was a photograph of Ron, Hermione and himself, all three of them laughing and beaming up at him, giving waves and, in Ron's case, blowing very feminine, exaggerated kisses. Harry smiled at it, remembering when it had been taken; a Sunday lunch at the Burrow back when the weather was still warm. He turned the page and found another photo of himself and Lily, her arm around his middle as they waved and smiled up at him, both of them happy. Harry continued to flick through pages, finding more and more photo's of happy times. Pictures of Ron and Hermione play fighting over a glass of lemonade, one of Ron dead to the world in his bed, his body hung limp over the edge and drool dribbling from his wide open mouth, one of Ginny and Hermione by the tree near the Weasley's pond, sunhats on and smiling…

Harry smiled as he looked at page after page, photo after photo. "Where did you get all these photos?"

"From Molly. She's been helping me make it for you for months.' Said Lily, shifting closer to him to look at the album with him. 'I've been dying to give this to you for ages; I knew back in August that this is what I wanted to give you. I know you already have one, but I thought you might like another with more recent memories in it."

"Yeah, I do. Mum, its great.' He said, leafing through more pages. Maybe it was all the Butterbeer he'd consumed that day, but he felt rather lightheaded and warm looking at all these photos. Sometimes it was almost impossible to remember what a peaceful, happy day felt like. These photos were proof that they had once been privileged enough to enjoy some.

Lily bit her lip. "So…you like it?"

Harry smiled and nodded. "Yeah, very much so. Thanks, Mum"

She leant over and kissed him on the forehead. "You're welcome, Sweetheart. Merry Christmas."

"So, I guess this means I'm meant to give you yours now?' he said.

"Standard procedure dictates." Nodded Lily.

Harry smiled and got to his feet. "It's upstairs. Hang on, I'll go get it."

"Just summon it."

"I need my wand for that."

"Where is it?"

"Upstairs."

Harry could hear her laughing even as he was halfway up the stairs. He walked casually up the hallway toward his bedroom, his ears buzzing with the deafening silence. It was so very quiet now that everyone had left to be with their respective families, and Harry didn't know whether to be upset or relieved. They'd only been gone not even fifteen minutes, but already Harry wanted Hermione and Ron back. He missed them.

He shook his head. He was just drunk.

But was he? This years Christmas had been different from all the rest, and there really was no doubt as to why. Just the fact that his mother was there made more difference than he had ever anticipated. He'd been looking forward to the experience, and his excitement had not been wasted. Turned out that Christmas was one of Lily's favorite holidays, and as a result she had the energy and enthusiasm of a four year old who had just received a new bike from Santa. Mix that with eight normally loud and energetic Weasleys, Butterbeer and Mrs. Weasley's cooking and you had nice, gentle chaos on your hands. Even Hermione, whose general rule for life was Mrs. I'm-Not-Stooping-to-Your-Level, had had four bottles of Butterbeer and become a little fuzzy and affectionate towards everyone. Harry smiled, knowing that the vision of Hermione tipsy would serve him well for many years of blackmailing and teasing to come.

Harry entered his room, taking a moment to notice the presents on his bed. There were many of them, all different sizes and shapes. It was still a surreal notion sometimes that he actually _got_ presents; ten years of no gifts of any kind was a hard mental expectation to shake, and he doubted he ever really would. There were Dark Arts books from Hermione, the usual knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley, cakes from Hagrid, an Egyptian ring from Bill, two boxes of Instant Darkness Powder from the twins, along with other nifty little objects and a leather jacket from Charlie that Ginny had seemed to particularly like and many other things.

After placing the photo album on the bed among his other gifts, he grabbed up his mothers present from his desk and made his way back downstairs.

Ginny. Boy had _that_ been awkward! Not because it had been uncomfortable; it was the opposite. He had been so glad she was home that now he was the one blushing and running out of the room when she entered, or adverting his eyes when she spoke to him, or putting his elbow in the butter. He wanted so badly to go back to the way things had been, and it would have been so easy to; God knows she wasn't making things difficult for him with her blasted hugs and that stupid mistletoe. It had taken a lot of energy to stay away from her when his natural impulse was to gravitate toward her. He was both dreading and looking forward to when she went back to school. It would remove the temptation.

He found Lily still sitting on the sofa, her legs crossed and hands in her lap as she stared into the fire. She looked up as he entered the room and smiled. "Did you have to take the Australian route? What took you so long?"

He laughed and sat down beside her. "Sorry, I was…thinking. Here you are – Merry Christmas."

Lily took his offered gift and, with the same gentle enthusiasm he had displayed before, unwrapped it. She let out an 'oh' of pleasant surprise as The Beatles looked up at her with their blank expressions and identical haircuts.

"Oh, Harry, it's wonderful!"

"So…you do like it then?"

"Are you daft? Of course I like it! I love it!' she leant over and put her arms around him. 'Thank you, this is great!"

"I wasn't sure, you know.' He said as she launched out of her seat and rushed over to the CD player Ginny had leant them. 'I mean, you said you liked them, but you said you liked heaps of others too and I just…I wasn't sure…"

Lily laughed as she bent over the CD player and selected a track. "Harry, it's a smashing present. Don't fret!' She sat back down next to him and a dreamy smile came over her face as 'Here Comes the Sun' began to play. 'I love this song. We played this at our wedding, you know. James used to sing it to me when I was pregnant with you, too, when I was feeling particularly blue."

Harry pursed his lips and looked into the fire, the issue they had been skirting around all day finally being thrust towards him. They hadn't talked about it, but the two of them had been very aware that while it was inexplicably wonderful that they were together again, there was still something missing. There was a hole that couldn't be filled, no matter how many Weasleys they sat at their table.

"It shouldn't be like this.' Muttered Harry.

Lily looked at him and her good mood vanished at the hunch of his shoulders and the expression of his face. She didn't need to ask what he was talking about. "I know, darling,' she said softly, taking his hand, 'you're right. It shouldn't be like this at all."

Harry exhaled slowly, feeling as if someone were pushing down on his shoulders. "He should be here with us. With me."

"You know, James…"

"Not just Dad.' Said Harry softly, cutting her off. 'Sirius should be here. And Cedric. And Dumbledore. They should be here. I shouldn't have…" he trailed off and clenched his jaw.

"I know, Harry.' Said Lily soothingly.

"No, you don't know.' He said shortly, giving her a look of resentment. 'You weren't there when…you didn't see…" he paused and took a deep breath. 'I was there for all of them. For Dad, for Cedric, for Sirius, for Dumbledore…and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. And I _should_ have. If I had, then they'd be here."

"Harry, those things were out of your control.' Said Lily firmly. 'You were only a baby when James was killed. Heck, you were only a baby when Dumbledore was killed! You're still a baby, no matter what the world thinks."

"I'm the Chosen One.' He said softly, his voice unsteady as his expression cracked. 'I meant to take care of them, no matter what."

Lily reached out and ran her fingers through his thick mop of unruly hair. He exhaled against her touch, as if she were absorbing the troubles right out of him. "Harry, it's okay to take care of others, but you need to remember to take care of yourself as well. Don't loose yourself in the past. This is a war, people die. It's tragic, but it happens. Don't let the actions of another make you feel guilty – He wins, that way."

Harry was silent for a long time after that. She hated his pensive silences. She never knew if she was actually getting through to him or not. He could be so closed off sometimes, just like Draco. Was it some sort of complex going around? Was Ron next? Curse teenagers and their woeful, badly-timed angst.

"I'm sorry for getting you such a pitiful gift.' Said Harry finally.

"It wasn't _pitiful_!' laughed Lily, relieved to see the corner of his mouth turned upwards in a smirk. 'Besides, you didn't really have to buy me anything. I already got what I wanted for Christmas this year."

Harry looked at her. "You did? What was it?"

Lily smiled. "You."

-------------------

Ron loved how soft Hermione's lips were. He loved how soft everything about her was. Her hair, her skin, her smile, her curves…she was just soft in general, like a marshmallow. His bushy-haired, brilliant, bossy little marshmallow. And even more than he loved her lips, he loved kissing them. He loved the feel of them against his own lips, against his cheek, against his neck (which rarely happened but, to his delight, was becoming more and more common)… it was still hard to believe that he was actually _allowed_ to kiss her. It was so much better than he had dreamed; and he would know, he'd been dreaming about it for years.

Hermione moaned and smiled as he pushed her up against the side of the broom shed. "Ron?"

"Hmm?' he hummed.

"I need to go home.' she giggled, kissing him slowly.

"Hmmm.' He moaned, cupping her face with his hands.

None of them made any attempt to stop. Ron wasn't sure where Hermione had learned to be such a good kisser, no doubt out of some book. That was the image he stuck with in attempt to replace the stubbornly disturbing one of _Vicky_ teaching her, the hunchbacked git…

Hermione was cold, she knew in the back of her mind that she was, but she didn't feel anything but his hands and his lips. His weight against her was making every nerve in her body thrum with electricity, and she wanted to jinx away the large winter coats between them. But no, she needed to show some self restraint. If she didn't, and she knew he certainly wouldn't, things would get very quickly out of control. Darn him and his undeniable attractiveness.

She moaned again, put her hands on his chest and pushed him away a little with a smile. "Ron, stop it. I need to go."

Ron grinned. "So go. I'm not making you stay."

He leant in again and kissed her, slow and easy and appreciative like it had been for the fifteen minutes they'd been out there. Hermione, completely forgetting what she was talking about, sighed and gripped his shoulders, bringing him closer. For a moment, she almost found herself grateful for Lavender teaching him this brilliant technique he had developed.

Almost.

She giggled into his mouth, grabbed the front of his coat and pulled away again. "Ron, honestly! I was meant to have gone home fifteen minutes ago!"

He smiled, put his hands on her hips and leant against her, their noses touching. "I'm not ready to say goodnight yet."

"You'll see me again tomorrow."

"But we won't be alone tomorrow like we are now.' He said softly, kissing her again.

Hermione gently pushed him away again. "Ron, my parents will worry, and your mother is probably wondering where you skipped off to. You told her you were only going to be a few minutes."

Ron shrugged. "She's probably too busy fussing over everyone to care." he wrapped her arms around his middle and she did the same, the two of them smiling at one another. "Did you have a good Christmas?"

"I certainly did.' she beamed. 'Our first Christmas together."

"Right,' he frowned, 'because the last six years didn't count?"

"No, that's not what I meant.' she said, giving him a look. 'Our first Christmas _together_. As a _couple_."

"Oh, right.' He said, blinking with surprise. 'So it is."

Hermione pursed her lips. "How easily we forget."

"What? No, I didn't mean it like that!' he said quickly, realizing how it had sounded. 'I just meant that I didn't notice the difference. Being with you like this is just so natural; it feels like we've been this way forever."

Hermione's indignation melted along with her heart. She smiled and snuggled into him, inhaling the smell of his cologne and his jacket. He was so warm. Had he always been this warm? She felt lightheaded and tipsy. Probably a mixture of alcohol and endorphins and adrenaline and hormones. Yep, that had to be it.

She looked up at him, but was instantly concerned when she found him to be looking off into the distance at the house. "What's bothering you?"

He looked around at her and frowned. "What?"

"What's bothering you?"

"Who said anything's bothering me?"

"Your nose is twitching."

"So?"

"Your nose twitches when you're worried about something. Like a rabbit, see?' she said, pointing to her nose as she wriggled it. 'You do that, as if you're desperate to scratch it."

Ron gaped at her. How did she _know_ all this stuff?

"So, what's troubling you?' she continued, fiddling with the collar of his jacket.

"Nothing.' He said, looking back out at the house.

"Don't be absurd. I _know_ something's wrong."

"Why would I say there isn't if there was?"

Hermione sighed irritably. "Men! Why don't you ever want to talk about your feelings?"

"Why do you women always _want_ to?" he retorted.

"Ron, talk to me!' she insisted. He didn't say anything, just looked away again. 'Did you not have a good day?"

"Of course I had a good day."

"Did you not like the gift I got you?" she said softly.

Ron looked down at her. "Don't be daft, it was wicked!' he beamed, thinking of the twelve month membership for the Chudley Cannons she had bought him.

She smiled. "Are you sure? Or would you have preferred a gold necklace with the words 'My Sweetheart' dangling from it?'

He glared down at her as she shuddered with suppressed giggles. He shook his head and sighed. "Bloody Harry…I'm going to _kill_ him…"

"It was so tempting!' she giggled into his chest. 'I think you would have looked sweet!"

"_Sweet_?' he laughed, outraged. He shook his head and wrapped his arms around her. 'When are you guys going to stop making fun of me for dating Lavender?"

"I'm sorry,' she sighed, 'but never."

Ron scowled.

Hermione rubbed his arms. "Ron, tell me what's on your mind."

He blew air out through his lips, his nose twitching again as if he had an itch. "I was just thinking…I know its Christmas and all, and we should all be happy and joyful and stuff, but… I can't help but feel a little worried."

"Worried? About what? The war?"

"Not just that, but… the effect it's going to have on my family.' He said. 'I mean, lets face it, there's a lot of us! And we're not known for keeping under the radar. We're reckless and head-strong and stubborn and if anything were to happen to any of them…' he trailed off and looked back at the house.

Hermione took his face in her hands and made him look at her. "We wouldn't let that happen. You're right, you're all reckless and stubborn and hot-headed, but you're also powerful and smart and clever and resourceful, and there's no way any of you would go out without a fight. Look at your Uncles Fabian and Gideon!"

Ron frowned. "Hermione, they were killed."

"But it took five Death Eater's to bring them down. _Five_!' Said Hermione. 'The Weasleys and the Prewetts do not go out easily, and I know none of you will either. Trust me; you're all going to be fine. You're going to look back on this in ten years from now at another Christmas dinner and laugh at how absurd you were."

"You reckon so?' he asked.

"Ron, please. I'm Hermione Granger.' She scoffed. 'I don't 'reckon', I '_know'_."

Ron smiled and hugged her, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "Come on, I'd better get you home before your Dad kills me for keeping you out all night…much as I'd like to."

----------------

Narcissa smoothed out the lap of her dress as she shifted her position on the sofa, wanting badly to collapse into its seductive comfort but not daring to let her guard down for a second in present company.

She'd been through the mill of emotions in such a small amount of time that she was completely exhausted. She was drowsy and lightheaded from wine, glorious food, and a mixture of adrenaline and many different emotions mixed together. It had been the most bizarre Christmas dinner she had ever sat through in her entire life.

After she'd spent five very embarrassing minutes crying all over her son's shirt, she had gone through the usual twenty questions a mother would ask of her child after such a long period of not having seen them, plus some that you wouldn't. Are you alright? Where have you been? Who have you been with? Where's Snape? Did he help you as I asked? Have you been eating right? Who put you in such appalling attire? Where did you go? Draco had answered them all with a strong, clear voice, betraying little of the emotions he had been through and was currently going through. But he had expected no less; he had always been like that.

The next emotion to come after surprise and relief had been anger. Why had he not written? Why had he gone to his cousin instead of back to her where he belonged? What had been in his head to make an Unbreakable Vow, with Potter of all people? Why had he given up his magic willingly? Once again, Draco had answered all these questions with help from his cousin, and while Narcissa still did not accept any of what had transpired, she did understand it.

Feeling eyes on her, Narcissa looked around at the person slouched right into the sofa beside her. Andromeda was looking up at her, drumming her fingers on her flat belly with a wide grin on her face.

Narcissa frowned. "May I help you with something?"

Andromeda snorted. "Can I help _you_ with something?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Look at the way you're sitting!' she giggled. 'You look like you've got a stick up your arse."

Narcissa shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, it's called 'posture'. The way women _should_ sit. Look at the way you're slouched, Andromeda, its disgraceful. Did mother not teach you anything?"

Andromeda rolled her eyes, blew air our through her lips and sat up, tucking her legs under her. "Better?"

"Quite."

"You know you don't have to impress anyone here.' Said Andromeda. 'You can relax; its just family."

Narcissa looked down her nose at her sister. "If you were in my position, would you relax?"

Andromeda sighed, rested her elbow on the back of the sofa and put her head in her hand. "If I were in your position, I don't know if I would have made it this far. Your husband in jail, your son a fugitive from both sides…"

"Yes, do bring that up as often as possible."

"What I'm saying, Cissy, is that you've got a lot more nerve than I would have if I were in your position.' Said Andromeda. She wanted to reach out and pat her on the shoulder, but didn't dare. 'I'm proud of you, little sister."

Narcissa turned her head only slightly and looked at Andromeda out of the corner of her eye. Her cheeks went pink and she pursed her lips. "I don't need your pride, Andromeda, nor do I need your sympathy."

Andromeda rolled her eyes. "Cissy, I'm trying to pay you a compliment here! I'm trying to be civil to a woman who told me she never wanted to speak to me ever again."

"_You_ left.' Snapped Narcissa, fixing her big sister with a glare. 'You left us to be with that Mudblood of yours…"

"Don't you dare use that word to describe my husband.' Said Andromeda icily. 'Ted is a good man, and if you had even taken the time to pull your head out of your arse and get to know him you would see that!' she shook her head in disbelief and slouched back into the sofa, folding her arms over her chest and letting her knees lean against one another. 'I can't believe I'm actually having this argument with you! The first time we talk in nearly thirty years, and we fight! And on Christmas!"

Narcissa just squared her shoulders and adjusted her slipping posture. She looked at her sister out of the corner of her eye again, feeling an odd twinge of guilt hit her. Out of both her sisters, Andromeda had always been the one she had been closet to. It had hurt Narcissa when she had upped and left to be with her now husband. It had hurt that things would never be the way they were before ever again. She had missed her and her light humor, and her bizarre way of handling stressful situations (to bury herself under a pile of pillows and scream as loud as she could until all the pain and anger was gone), and everything else that made her her big sister. And it had hurt most of all that, because she had always seemed to be the only one from her family that had actually felt that way, and she therefore had never been able to talk to anyone about it. Her coldness about the situation was a habit so deeply imbedded it took a large, conscious effort to try and break through it.

She turned her head a little to look down at her sister, who was still glaring into the fire. "Does he know you're here?"

Andromeda looked up at her. "Who, Ted?"

"No, father. Of _course_ Ted."

"Yes, he knows I'm here, though he thought me mental for coming.' She said, smiling back into the fire. 'I'm actually starting to think he was right."

Narcissa frowned. "What is that meant to mean?"

Andromeda ran her hands through her long, brown hair. "He said that even if you did come there'd be no way in hell you'd be any kind of proper dinner company, and you know what? He was right! The entire time we've been here tonight you've barely said to words to me that haven't been laced with anger or snootiness."

"What did you expect to happen, Andromeda?' said Narcissa. 'Did you expect us to repair all that's happened in a few hours over dinner?"

"I'm an optimist, not a fool.' Said Andromeda flatly. 'I just thought that if our kids could manage to find a way to get along, that maybe we could too."

Narcissa pursed her lips, turned around and looked over at the dining area behind them. Draco and Tonks were cleaning up the dishes, packing away uneaten food and wiping the table top, having a surprisingly pleasant chat with one another. Their interaction with one another had been one of the first things Narcissa had noticed. She'd never known her son to be so comfortable with someone before. To anyone else, he would have seemed as closed off as he was with everyone as he usually was, but she knew her son better than anyone else, and knew that this was different. He was still cold and sarcastic and horribly honest in a manipulative way, just like his father, but it was diluted for Nymphadora. More innocent.

She looked back down at her sister. "You and Nymphadora…you organized all this so Draco and I could have one day together?"

Andromeda laughed and threw her arms up. "Yes! That's what we've been trying to tell you since you got here!"

"Why would you do that?' asked Narcissa, actually curious. 'We're enemies, aren't we? On different sides. Different people fighting for a different cause."

"Oh,' said Andromeda, blinking, 'and here I was under the absurd impression that we were family."

Narcissa's eyes widened just that little bit, just as Draco and Nymphadora came around to stand in front of the fire, still in the midst of a sarcasm battle.

"…just a poncy little git.' Tonks was saying, pushing Draco playfully. 'A little manual labor never hurt anybody."

"Tell that to those people in the intensive care unit at St Mungo's who back and spinal replacements.' Said Draco, rubbing his arm where she had pushed him. 'I think they would snare at your heinous comment."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you only had to wipe the tables! Be glad I didn't put you through the entire Bust Boy Academy and make you collect the dishes and wash them and dry them! Then I suspect your precious little hands couldn't handle dish water?"

Draco looked at her blankly, and then looked at his mother. "Isn't she hilarious? I never have any idea what she's talking about but she's so entertaining. Like a chimp."

"Does this abomination of 'manual labor' happen to you often?' asked Narcissa.

"Increasingly.' Sighed Draco.

Tonks looked at her watch. "Mum, check the time."

Andromeda looked at her own watch and frowned. "Damn, ten to midnight."

"What does that have to do with anything?' asked Narcissa.

"Potter wants me back by midnight.' Scowled Draco, glaring at Tonks as if she were Harry himself. 'If I'm out longer than midnight it breaks the Vow and…"

"And he dies.' Finished Tonks, giving her aunt a smile.

Narcissa stood quickly. "Draco, I don't want you going back with…these people."

"These _people_?' said Andromeda, leaping to her feet indignantly.

"Mother, I don't want to go back with them either,' said Draco, folding his arms over his chest. 'but I don't particularly fancy dying. It's cruel and unjust and horrendously unsanitary, but I think for the time being we will have to accept these arrangements."

Tonks blinked and looked at him in surprise. Where had this maturity come from? Has she taught him that? Surely not.

Narcissa seemed to consider this option. After a very long moment, she took her son's face in her hands and fixed him with a stare. "I don't like this arrangement at all. But if it keeps you safe, then I will accept it. I will rest easier, knowing you're alive and well."

Draco sniffed. "Alive, at least."

Narcissa sniffed, smirked and hugged him again. He stiffened and pursed his lips, as if trying not to let the two women present how much he actually really did appreciate what they had done for him. He didn't want them to know anything that he felt. Only his mother was privy to that information, and sometimes not even her. Seeing her again, seeing that she was safe and that all that he had done had actually paid off, had been so overwhelming that he'd almost cracked right there and then. But he'd held it together, only just. He could collapse later when he was in his room and was shielded by the cloak of night.

He patted his mother awkwardly on the back. "Mother, I have to go now."

Narcissa let him go reluctantly. She fixed Tonks with an icy glare and drew herself up to her full height. "You will look after him, or you will have me to answer to. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Nymphadora?"

Tonks pursed her lips, bursting to snap 'don't call me Nymphadora', but instead nodded. "Yes, Aunt, I will."

Draco let Tonks take his arm and, with a 'pop', they were gone.

Narcissa exhaled slowly through her nose, ready to let all the emotions she'd been bottling up come flowing out when she remembered she wasn't yet alone. She looked at her sister, who had been watching her with a soft, sympathetic expression, her arms folded over her chest.

She cleared her throat. "I suppose I should thank you for what you did for me today."

Andromeda smiled and looked down at her feet. "I suppose you could, but I didn't dare to expect you to."

Narcissa pursed her lips, the corner of her mouth turning upwards ever so slightly.

"So, you're going to go back to the Manor?" asked Andromeda.

"I will, yes. I have frequent visitors, and they will grow suspicious if I am gone for too long."

"Okay, well…' sighed Andromeda, reaching into her back pocket, '…if you'd just hold still for me? This won't take a second."

Narcissa's eyes widened with alarm as Andromeda pulled her wand out and pointed it right at her face. "What are you doing?"

Andromeda sighed regretfully. "I'm sorry, Cissy, but this is for your own good."

"You're going to perform a _memory charm_ on me?' cried Narcissa, outraged.

"I don't want to, but it has to be done."

"It most certainly does not have to be done! How dare you presume for one moment that I would consent to this? This is outrageous!"

"You think I _want_ to do this?' cried Andromeda. 'You think I want you to forget that you got to spend Christmas with your son when for the past few months you haven't even known if he was alive? You really think I get some sort of thrill out of this?"

Narcissa pulled her wand out of her robes and pointed it at her sister. "You just try and hex me, Andro.' She growled.

Andromeda stepped forward and, with a lighting fast swipe, snatched Narcissa's wand right out of her hand. She tossed it aside carelessly and raised her own wand again. Narcissa made to move for her wand, but Andromeda stepped with her.

"Don't.' she warned coolly.

Narcissa glared at her sister, so angry she was shaking. She screwed up her face, tears of frustration forming in her eyes. "Why are you doing this to me?' she whispered.

Andromeda's stance softened. "I'm not doing this _to_ you, Cissy; I'm doing this _for_ you. Don't you see? We're trying to _help_ you. We're trying to _protect_ you! You _and_ Draco!"

"How does this…this…this _invasion_ help me?' snapped Narcissa.

"If the Dark Lord questions you, if he uses Legilimency, he will see past your lies.' Said Andromeda softly. 'He'll see that you've been meeting Draco secretly without him knowing. What do you think he'll do you if he find out that Draco's with us? That you were with us and didn't take advantage of it? What do you think he'll do to _you_?' she stepped forward, lowering her wand completely. 'I don't want to think about him hurting you. Every time I do, my gut churns so badly it hurts and I can't focus on anything else."

"We're not thirteen anymore, Andro.' Hissed Narcissa, backing up a step defensively. 'I don't need you to take care of me."

"You're my little sister.' Said Andromeda firmly. 'And no matter what team we're playing for, or how badly we're fighting, or how much we think we hate each other, I will _always_ want to protect you. I scarcely know how to do much else."

Narcissa pressed her lips into a thin line, her outward barriers breaking down. She was being torn in two, and it put the emotional icing on a very emotional year.

Andromeda sighed, feeling defeated. "If you won't to it for me, or yourself, then at least do it for Draco. He's already in enough shite as it is without adding this to it. You-know-who can not know you've been in touch with him. It isn't safe."

"I can protect my mind.' Said Narcissa defiantly. 'I'm not a squib like some of the other dim-witted minions that dribble around. I know Occlumency…"

"We can't take the risk.' Said Andromeda.

Narcissa was out of excuses. Half of her didn't want to be subjected to any kind of mind alteration, especially by her sister. But the other half wanted to do anything to make sure Draco was safe, and if this would help ensure that safety…

She looked away. "Do it."

Andromeda bit her lip. "You know that if there was another way…"

"I said _do it_!' snapped Narcissa. 'Make me forget I ever saw you."

Andromeda's chin trembled. She bit her lip, refusing to cry. She raised her wand and concentrated, but in a moment of reckless impulse she stepped forward, seized Narcissa by the back of the head and planted a firm kiss on her forehead.

Narcissa stiffened, but didn't even have time to react for after a split second it was over, the warm tingling sensation on her forehead the only evidence that it had ever actually happened.

Andromeda raised her wand again, breathing heavily. "Merry Christmas, Cissy. Maybe one day we'll be able to do this again properly."

-----------------

Ginny flopped back over onto her back and blew air out through her lips. Two hours later and it was officially an undeniable fact – she couldn't sleep.

Her mind was in an unstoppable whirl, and no matter how much she tried to relax, or clear her mind, or count dragons, she simply could not manage to doze off. Had she had too much food? Her mother used to say that having too much to eat before you went to bed would make you restless. No, that couldn't be it. She had the stomach of any normal Weasley – a bottomless pit. Too much Butterbeer? Was there even such a thing? She doubted it. She hadn't had as much as Hermione. Perhaps she was just simply too hyped from the day's events.

Yes, that was most likely it. So much had happened in such a small amount of time. So many emotions had run high that she was still cruising on adrenaline. She had had such a good day; it was hard to pick the highlight.

Was it the lunch? Her mother and Lily had cooked up a feast to rival that of the Hogwarts House Elves. And there had been so much of it! Ginny had been worried that they would be able to feed six Weasleys (Percy, unfortunately, had not made it that year), Harry, Hermione and Lily, not to mention the constant flow of Order members who had popped in and out sporadically to share their holiday wishes. But there had been more than enough – and with good food came good table conversation. It had been magic to be able to catch up with everyone. Being at Hogwarts for the past three months had been horrible, socially. Having the opportunity to talk openly with them all about things they could not put into owls was wonderful. It had felt like old times, when they'd have breakfast together in the Great Hall.

Had it been the dinner at The Burrow? It was wonderful to be able to sit with her family, just them, and feel like she really was home. The twins hadn't changed, Bill hadn't changed, Charlie hadn't changed and Ron, thankfully, had followed the same pattern. They'd teased her relentlessly, but for once she hadn't minded. It was just nice to be teased. It was nice to be back in her house and enjoy the smells and the sounds that she'd grown up with.

Had it been seeing Harry in that leather jacket Charlie had given him? Oh boy, that had _definitely_ been a highlight. Who would have thought that such a big dork would look so good in leather? Ginny certainly hadn't, but she knew she would have to thank Charlie some day for being such a good judge of fashion.

Ginny sighed and looked up at the dark ceiling. Now she definitely wasn't going to get any sleep. She sat up, ran her hands through her red hair and got out of bed. She needed to do something. Something simple to distract her. A glass of water sounded nice.

She padded out into the hall, rubbing her eyes. She could hear the sound of laughter coming from upstairs; no doubt Charlie and Bill were still up, exchanging stories. It was rather bizarre that Fred and George had gone straight to sleep, while the two oldest had stayed up with the most amount of energy.

As she made her way slowly downstairs, avoiding creaking floorboards with a perfect skill that was second nature to her, she couldn't help but think back at the one thing she regretted of the day – Harry. She'd hoped that this time would be an opportunity to try and get a bit closer to him again, but it had been much harder than she'd anticipated. He never seemed to be alone. He was always sitting with at least one other person, and if she didn't know any better she'd think he'd done this deliberately. Their conversation when they had spoken and been pleasant, yet slightly uncomfortable. It wasn't the warm, fuzzy, postcard style Christmas she'd been hoping for with him, but she was still grateful to be with him at all.

Even if it did hurt more to stand with him and not be with him, than it did to be without him completely.

Ginny went down another level, walked down the hallway and was halfway down the staircase to the kitchen when she spotted something in the dim light. A lamp was sitting on the bench top, casting a soft glow about the room, and over by the back door she saw her parents.

And they were kissing.

She froze, completely surprised. They were just kissing, plain and simple, nothing more nothing less. Her mother, still dressed with an apron around her middle, was leaning up against the wall, her hands wrapped around her father's waist. He had her face in his hands, pushing her hair back as he stroked her cheek, their mouths moving together with a synchronization that had been perfects over years of marriage.

Ginny couldn't think of anything but how innocent it seemed. They'd been married for nearly thirty years, and yet they could still have a simple snog like this as if they were teenagers hiding in the hallways of Hogwarts, away from the prying eyes of Professors. They were being so gentle and so very _quiet_. Ginny couldn't remember ever seeing them kiss beyond a chaste kiss on the cheek. It was sweet that they were so obviously still so in love with one another through all they had been through. Two wars, seven children and a lifetime of poverty were enough hardships for ten people to handle in six different lifetimes. Would she and Harry be like that one day? Would Ron and Hermione?

She smiled, gave them once last look and went back up the stairs. She was suddenly feeling very tired.

* * *

A/N – Longest. Chapter. EVER. There were a lot of emotional things that I wanted to address in this chapter, hence its length. I didn't really want to cut it into two parts, because that would have annoyed me to no end and just made this story even bloody longer than it already is. Hopefully this will tie you over until I can put my arse into gear and get on with the story! He!

Please review!


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36!

* * *

Tonks leant against the doorframe and smiled, folding her arms over her chest. "What _are_ you doing?"

Draco, who had been standing in front of his full-length mirror, his shoulders squared and his chin lifted as he turned from side to side, looked around at the woman standing his the doorway of his room with surprise. She quirked an electric blue eyebrow teasingly, and Draco flushed pink.

He narrowed his eyes at her and went back to preening himself. "You know what I hate about you more than your disturbing obsession with decrepit clothing?"

"My cheery disposition?' offered Tonks.

"Your _timing_.' He drawled, giving her a look.

She laughed and came into the room properly. "And least you didn't try to deny that I caught you checking yourself out."

Draco fiddled with the collar of his black shirt. "If you're going to rudely invite yourself in, then at least shut the door behind you. I don't want any more of your lot thinking also that they can enter whenever they feel like it."

"I like the way you think you own the place,' said Tonks, shutting the door, 'it reminds me of all the reasons why I dislike the Malfoys."

"Dislike the Malfoy's?' he scoffed in mock offence. 'What an abomination!"

Tonks sat down on the edge of his bed and watched him continue to preen in front of the mirror. His back was straight, his head was held high and he looked as if he were getting himself ready to enter an important meeting with equally important people. But he wasn't going anywhere; he was dolling himself up just for the hell of it. Just because it was what he did. It was who he was. He was Draco Malfoy, who always looked impeccable and clean and neat. He liked looking important and rich and handsome. He liked having an appearance of grace and wealth, even if he was a seventeen year old fugitive on the run from the Ministry with not a Knut to his name. You could forget he was a wizard sometimes from the Muggle clothes he wore and his temporary lack of magical ability. But Tonks knew she would be a fool to think of him as placid, and forget him to be dangerous. He may have changed from the boy he was last year, but he was still Draco.

"So is this what you Slytherin's do in your spare time between picking on first year Hufflepuffs and concocting secret, cunning plans for world domination?"

Draco looked at her in the mirror. "What kind of things do you people think goes on in the Slytherin dungeons anyway? There are no whips or people chained to the wall. In fact, some nights we even do crosswords."

Tonks smiled. "Well, I'll certainly sleep better at night knowing _that_ little tidbit of info."

He sighed and went back to his grooming. "Why are you here? What do you want? Other than to make my already miserable life that much more dismal."

"Just wanted to sit with you, is all."

"I do not need to be sat with.' He said, insulted. 'I do not require a nanny or a babysitter, nor have I ever needed one. So go! Be gone with you and your good intentions! I don't want them."

"You don't even just want some company?' she asked.

Draco straightened up and pursed his lips, but said nothing.

Tonks sighed and flopped down on the bed. She rolled onto her side and propped her head up, watching him groom. "Are you still sore from what Harry said to you before?"

"For six years Potter's words have not yet managed to penetrate my delicate internal balance, and this morning was no different.' He said stiffly.

"Don't be a prat. You're not impenetrable."

"When I'm sober I am."

"I know its hard being told to bugger off like that…"

"I believe his exact words were, 'When I get home I'm going to rip your heart out through your foot'… give or take a profanity."

"Its no wonder, after what you said!"

"I was perfectly polite! I used my nice words."

"You called Hermione a 'Mudblood' and said she was going to die!"

Draco pursed his lips. "What I meant was that she _would_ die without help. And there I was, quite innocently offering that help, but _no_! Potter has to run off and be the fat-headed berk of a hero he always is! It wasn't _my_ fault Death Eater's were attacking in Essex and that it was all hands on deck, or patio, or however the confounded expression goes…"

"The problem is not you offering to help…which was unexpected, but very nice…' she said sincerely, 'the problem was that you couldn't do it without insulting someone! Sincerity and petulance can not go together in the same sentence! How do you expect Harry to take you seriously when you disrespect him and his friends at every given opportunity?"

"Nymphadora,' sighed Draco, as if she were particularly stupid, 'the day they start treating me with respect is the day I will vaguely consider reciprocating – after I have recovered from the shock of hell freezing over and pigs showing off their brilliant aerodynamics."

Tonks glared at him. "What have I told you about calling me 'Nymphadora'?"

Draco smirked and began styling his hair with his hands. "Your mother said I had every right to call you that."

"Yeah, well,' muttered Tonks, fiddling with the quilt, 'my mother's a twit."

"Are you sure she's my Aunt?' asked Draco, flicking his fringe back. 'She didn't seem at all like mother or Aunt Bellatrix. She's peculiar and odd and uncouth – like you."

"Gee, thanks.' Said Tonks flatly.

Draco stilled his motions through his hair and looked at himself in the mirror, sobering up. "Regardless…mother seemed to enjoy her company."

Tonks looked at him. "She did? How could you tell? She only has like two facial expressions; anger and distaste."

"I could tell.' He said simply. There was the faintest sign of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Tonks flopped back onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. They hadn't really talked about Christmas much in the month since it had happened. He hardly ever brought it up and neither did she. There wasn't ever a need to. It had happened and that was all there was to it. He'd never said thank you, nor shown any sign that he had appreciated the trouble she and her mother had gone to to make the day happen. But she didn't mind all that much; she hadn't really expected him to anyway.

She looked back at him. "Do you think your Mum would be out there today? You know, fighting and all?"

Draco stiffened. He looked at her in the mirror for a moment, and then went back to his grooming. "If she was told to."

"And that's alright with you?"

"Doesn't matter if I like it or not, it's the way it is. And no amount of pissy whining will change it."

Tonks sat up and gaped at him. "Is that what you think we do? '_Pissy whining'_?"

Draco turned to the side, examining the left side of his torso. "Well, you have to admit, some of you are rather shrill…"

"People _die_ for this cause, Draco!' snapped Tonks angrily. 'People are out there, suffering right now because of something they believe in! And how _dare_ you degrade their bravery with such derogatory words!"

"Why would I speak of these people with honor when they fight for a cause I don't believe in?' he asked. 'I couldn't care less if all the Mudbloods in the world died tomorrow from locusts eating their brains with chopsticks."

"You're such a prejudice bastard.' She growled.

"Wrong. I am free from all prejudices.' He said lightly. 'I hate everyone equally."

Tonks scoffed.

"They want to live, and yet they throw themselves head first into a war they know they cannot win.' Said Draco. 'You're all headstrong idiots, and it's why you have all these 'honorable sacrifices'. It's why you always loose."

Tonks shook her head. "How can you defend His actions? How can you stand there and say that the death of countless innocent people means nothing?"

"So it's bad when we kill you, but it's perfectly alright when you kill us?' he countered. 'It would be tragic if _your_ father was killed because he is Muggleborn, but it would be for the good of mankind if _my_ father was killed?' he glared at her in the mirror. 'Your 'just' system does nothing for me."

"The Death Eaters would kill your father too had they the chance.' Said Tonks. 'Vol-…Vol-… _urgh_, You-Know-Who would have him off-ed in a second without any sense of guilt what-so-ever!"

"I fail to see the difference."

"The difference is that we'd show mercy!' cried Tonks. 'Dumbledore showed you mercy, do you remember that? You let Death Eaters into his school, you almost killed three people and he still showed you mercy! He could be an inch from death… he _was_ an inch from death… and still he would want to help you! Are you going to stand there and tell me that meant nothing to you? That you didn't appreciate that compassion?"

Draco just glared at her, his cheeks flushed pink. Anyone who knew him well enough would be able to see the cogs turning in his head, telling them that he wasn't angry so much as caught in a whirl of confusion.

Tonks shook her head in disbelief. "Why do you cling to them, Draco? We offer you such a better deal here."

"Oh, yes, a better deal! Having my magic taken away from me and not able to leave this house unless I have Potter's say so!' said Draco harshly. He paced up and down in front of the mirror, his chest heaving heavily at first but, as he continued to pace, began to ease as he slowly began to calm.

Tonks rubbed her face. "Even without magic, how could you not rather be with us? The Death Eater life seems so… _dirty_. I mean, you have to live in secret, you cant ever really show your face in public without someone slapping you in hand binds, you have to wear the most depressing masks, you have to get a terrible tattoo…"

Draco rolled up his sleeve and exposed his left forearm. "Not all of us."

"Yes, I know you don't have one. You showed me already.' She said.

He rolled his sleeve back down. "You don't understand what its like on that side.' Said Draco, his expression turning almost dreamy and wistful. 'To know you're part of something great…something powerful… something that's going to change the world. It's _intoxicating_. To have the power and the respect is like nothing else in the world."

Tonks frowned. "You think being intimidating is fun?"

"Of course, don't you?' he asked.

"Don't be an idiot.' She said, knowing he was no longer serious.

"Look at me.' he said, straightening up in front of the mirror again. 'Don't you think I'm intimidating?"

"Actually, as far as Death Eater's go, you're pretty cuddly."

Draco deflated.

"Draco, I understand that the 'dark side' can be seductive.' She said softly. 'You're a teenage boy, still looking for your place in the world. We all want to be accepted. To be respected. It's hard to say no to that, no matter who it's coming from.'

"And you're an expert, are you?"

Tonks smiled. "Oh please, a bumbling, clumsy, metamorph freak who could grow a John Thomas and make her face in a beak if she wanted certainly wouldn't be the most popular girl in school now would she?'

"And costume parties I think you might.' Said Draco.

She shook her head and smiled. 'I think I'm starting to understand you now."

"Really?' he smirked, unconvinced. 'Do enlighten me, cousin."

"You'd rather be with them because they accepted you. Here, they treat you with suspicion and with caution. They don't like you, yet there they did…at least to an extent.' She looked at him sympathetically. 'It's like being forced to go to a class that none of your friends attend, and being forced to sit with people you don't like who you know don't like you. That's a pretty bad feeling, hey?"

Draco's eyes narrowed at her, and she knew from this look that she was right. "Oh, this is the part where you try to give me advice and I pretend I'm going to listen. I love this part."

"If it's hard, why don't you talk to me about it?"

"Because you're a woman, and I'm a seventeen year old man.' He said pompously, turning back to the mirror.

"I'm also your friend.' She blurted out.

An awkward silence followed her outburst. Draco stilled his motions in front of the mirror, his eyes widening just that little bit. Tonks mouth opened and shut several times, trying to find the words to take it back, or elaborate, or anything. But no sound came out, and her proclamation simply continued to hang in the air.

After a long moment, Draco straightened up and went on with his preening. 'I'm not a poof. I don't want to share my feelings. I don't want to open up."

Tonks pursed her lips, knowing that the conversation was now finished. One thing she had gained from all their time together arguing over sides and morals was that she knew what lessons he was taking in and what ones he wasn't. She was pleased that this happened to be one of them.

Draco looked down at his feet. "Answer me something I've never been able to understand, seen as you seem to be on a roll."

"Ask away."

"Why does he do it?' asked Draco. 'Potter – why does he do it? Why does he put himself through this endless torment of friends dying, or of people getting hurt? Why doesn't he just pack them all up and leave if he's that worried about them? Why are you Gryffindors so stupid and noble?"

"Love, Draco.' Tonks smiled. "He does it because he loves them. It's as simple as that. He fights because he loves them. He puts himself through everything a man can go through because he loves them. That's what drives him. Not anger or hate or vengeance, but love."

Draco sniffed. "What a poncy reason _that_ is."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "You asked, I told you. Harry fights because he cares. That's more than I can say for you."

"You think _I_ don't care?' snapped Draco. 'You think I…you think…' he trailed off and fumed, looking very offended. He glared at her for a long moment, thinking of all the most disgusting creatures he'd love to turn her into until his fuse of rage calmed enough for rational thought. He shook his head and folded his arms over his chest. 'That can't be the only reason. One person can't be motivated by love alone."

"Why not? I think they can. Harry is evidence of that."

"Love isn't always enough."

"Yes it is.' She said softly. 'You go without it long enough and you realize it's everything."

Draco looked at her. "Do you love Potter?"

Tonks nodded. "In a way, yes, I suppose I do."

"And Lupin?"

"Of course."

Draco pursed his lips and hesitated. "Do you love me?"

Tonks looked up at him, startled. She was sure she'd heard wrong. "What?"

"Do you?"

She considered him for a long time before answering. He was looking at her, expressionless as always with a patience that was at times disturbingly short, but at others seemingly endless.

"I love you.' She said, shocked to hear the words come out of her mouth. 'I just don't know if I trust you."

Draco straightened up, not blinking. He looked at her for a long moment before turning away and resuming his pacing. Tonks watched him walk back and forth, hypnotic like a watch being dangled in front of her. She knew it was peculiar and strange, but she couldn't help it. In some strange, out of this word way, she did love him. It was the only way she could think of to describe it. She cared about him. She cared about what happened to him. She knew who he was, what he was, and yet she still cared about him. It was so utterly bizarre.

"Now why have you not gone off with the cavalry then, I wonder.' He said, his voice jolting her out of her thoughts. 'An Auror not wanting to fight? It's unthinkable."

Tonks looked around at him. "Someone had to stay home with you."

Draco smiled bitterly. "You drew the short twig?"

"No, I chose to stay behind."

"Now why would you go and do a silly thing like that?' he asked. 'Oh, let me guess – it's because I'm such fabulous company."

Tonks shrugged. "Sometimes…oddly enough… I happen to think you are."

"Only sometimes?' he asked, mock offended. 'Come now, I know you can't bear to be out of my presence for more than ten minutes at a time."

"You know, that smugness of yours really is an attractive quality."

"Thank you. It was either that or get my hair highlighted. Smugness is easier to maintain."

Tonks smiled, got to her feet and crossed over to him. She put a hand on his shoulder and, as usual, pretended not to notice when he flinched away. "Come on, let's go downstairs and get some food."

Draco looked aghast. "But…the _mirror_…."

"Oh get over yourself"

The two of them made their way downstairs together, Tonks leading with Draco tagging along behind. No matter how used to it you thought you were it was still a strange sight. Little, diminutive Tonks, a head shorter than Draco, could still manage to have some sort of control over him, like a teacher over a student. Like a quirky teacher over a stubborn, rebellious student. Draco would not listen to anyone else except her, it seemed. When you looked at it down to its bare minimum – an Auror in control of a Death Eater – it really was one of the more odd combinations Fate and war had thrown together.

Tonks sighed as they entered the dining room, the usual disarray of papers and books strewn out across the table leaving not much room for food. He came in behind her, looking surprised as he always did, as if he still couldn't believe he actually lived there now.

"So, Draco,' she said, turning to face him, 'What's your poison?"

Draco's eyes lit up. "Well, I don't find the big flashy ones to have that much appeal, per se. Subtlety – _that's_ what the children want. I rather like the trick of Bubotuber Puss in one's drink… just slip a few drops in there and everything from the neck down turns to fire! And then, if I'm feeling particularly fancy, I could add some Wartcap Power to one's body lotion, and they would break out all scaly! And sometimes…"

"Draco!' cried Tonks, her eyes wide. 'I meant _drink_. What do you want to _drink_?"

"Oh,' said Draco. 'Er… Butterbeer, please."

Tonks looked at him, fearful for his sanity as she made her way toward the kitchen. But she only made it half-way there before she yelped in surprise, as if something had bitten her.

"What is it?' asked Draco. 'What happened?"

"Damn talisman's going off in my pants!' cried Tonks, half outraged, half laughing.

Draco quirked an eyebrow as she frantically reached into the back pocket of her jeans. "You don't even _try_ to make it hard, do you.' he said.

She ignored him. She'd found the talisman and held it up to examine it. It was small, no bigger than a Sickle. It had runes around the edges and the gem in the middle was pulsating with a deep red colour, like blood. It was vibrating her hand, demanding her attention. Draco had a fleeting impulse to be an Auror, just so he could have cool toys like that.

"I need to go.' She said shortly.

"_Now_? But…"

"You'll be right here on your own, wont you?"

"I would have been right, left _and_ centre without you here in the first place!' he snapped.

"Don't be a dickhead! Do I need to call in and decline the summons or not?"

Draco sighed. "No, Nymphadora, I am perfectly fine. I have a word jumble somewhere here on the table which should, sadly, keep me occupied for the rest of the day."

She didn't respond, as in three quick movements she summoned her cloak from upstairs, fastened it around her shoulders and disapparated from the room with a professional CRACK.

Draco sighed, concerned by the feeling of abandonment he suddenly felt. He squashed it as soon as it flared, refusing to acknowledge such an appalling emotion – especially for her. It wasn't the first time he'd been disapparated on mid-conversation. Tonks had left many times unexpectedly, called away suddenly to a crisis. His father had done it plenty of times in the past too.

He looked off into space, disgruntled with, once again, being left alone in the house. _She could have at least gotten me my Butterbeer_, he thought irritably, _before she went off and saved lives. Huh!_

Deciding to spend a half hour wallowing in teenage angst, Draco turned and headed back toward the staircase, but had only taken two steps when there was another loud CRACK and something large appeared in front of him.

"_MOVE_!" bellowed Ron, bloody face absolutely livid with rage and worry.

Draco didn't even think to argue, nor did he have a moment to. Without waiting for any kind of response, Ron barged around him, Draco only having just leapt back out of his path a split second before. He watched as Ron rushed over toward the table, and it was only then that Draco comprehended what Ron was carrying in his arms.

"Honestly, Ron, this is _ridiculous_!' sighed Hermione, rolling her eyes. She had her arms around his neck and was looking at him as if he were completely insane. 'I can _walk_, you know!"

But Ron wasn't listening. As he approached the table, without even touching them all the papers and books in the immediate area flew off the table in different directions, clearing a space. He sat Hermione gently down on the table as if she were made of porcelain. He was breathing heavily, from stress and concern and the effort of carrying her. Draco stood a few feet away, watching with curiosity. They were both filthy. They had scratches and bruises and even the bottom of Ron's shirt looked singed. The legs of their pants were dark and wet with mud as if they had fallen repeatedly, which they probably had, and they looked as if someone had tipped a bucket of dust over them. Draco hadn't known where they were going when they had all 'abandoned ship' an hour ago, but it was obviously somewhere very dirty.

Ron grabbed Hermione left arm softly, and she winced. With one swift pull, he ripped the material of her shirt apart, exposing the large, deep gash running up her arm.

"Ow! Ron, my shirt…"

"Bugger your shirt, I can repair it later.' He said shortly, examining her wound with critical eyes. He frowned as he held her arm up to get a closer look.

Hermione hissed as he touched the tender skin just outside the wound. "Ron, not that I don't… _OW_!... _urgh_, not that I don't appreciate this gesture, but…_argh! Far out_!...there are mediwizards who can…"

"You won't loose much more blood if I can get to it quick enough.' He said, ignoring her, his tone very firm and level. He looked up and acknowledged Draco for the first time. 'There's some Murtlap Essence upstairs, second floor bathroom… go get it and bring it down here to me, will you?"

Draco didn't seem to hear. He was looking at Hermione wound in shock and wonder, watching the red, sticky blood ooze from it and soak her shirt and the tips of Ron's fingers. "She's hurt…she's _bleeding_…"

"_MALFOY_!' roared Ron, his face red. 'Get upstairs NOW!"

Draco blinked, coming out of his trance. He looked at their faces, Hermione's arranged with a mixture of pain and discomfort, and Ron's contorted in rage and impatience. He backed up toward the stairs. "Murtlap?"

"It's in the cupboard behind the mirror.' Groaned Hermione through her teeth.

Nodding, Draco turned on his heel and ran back up the stairs.

Ron looked up at her face, the hard expression he'd been wearing since he'd scooped her up from the bottom of the field and apparated her home fading for a moment. He pushed her bushy hair out of her face, exposing the cuts and dirt across her cheeks. He just stared at her, the scene of the fight playing over and over in his mind. Her eyes were brimming with tears of pain, but her face with tight and determined, refusing to cry. After a long moment, he laid her arm back down in her lap softly.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?' he asked, looking away.

Hermione pursed her lips. His hard, defensive expression was back up. "I'm hurt everywhere. I feel like I've been pushed down a steep hill in a wooden Zorb Ball."

Ron took his shirt off and ripped off a small section of cloth. He rolled it into a ball and began to dab at her cut gingerly. "Yeah, well, that's what happens when you take on Bellatrix Lestrange by yourself without waiting for me." he said stiffly.

"Oh, you're right, I should have asked her to wait to attack me while I asked the Death Eater you were dueling with if I could borrow you for a moment. How could I have been so stupid?' she groaned sarcastically, screwing her eyes and clenching her fist as Ron attended to her wound.

"And you think _I'm_ a head strong, stubborn arse prat.' He snapped. 'Sometimes I've got bollocks on you."

Draco came clattering back into the room, carrying a small basin of thick yellow liquid. He came over to them and laid it down on the table beside Hermione. "I hope this is properly diluted. I don't fancy being in your position, Granger, if it isn't."

Hermione gave him a weak smile through her wince of pain. "Thank you, Malfoy."

"Don't thank him yet.' Snapped Ron, shoving Draco aside to get to the basin. 'If I put this on you and you break out in boils he'll be wearing it… and not on his head."

"Ron, honestly, don't be so – _ARGH_!" she cried as her cut pulsated with a pang of pain.

"Stop fidgeting!' said Ron irritably, trying to dab some Murtlap on her wound.

"Do you even know what you're doing, Weasley?' asked Draco.

Ron glared at him for a moment, before going back to Hermione's arm. "I can heal it up until Mrs. Potter gets back. She's loads better at this sort of stuff than I am. I know the basics."

"But, Ron, honestly its fine! It doesn't even hurt.' she tried to reason. The look of pain across her face was rather contradictory.

"Well, the Murtlap Essence will make it hurt less than it already does.' He said flatly. 'At least for now."

"It needs healing, not ointment.' Said Draco.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?' snapped Ron, throwing him another venomous look.

"There were qualified Mediwizards back in Devon,' breathed Hermione, trying to twist her arm out of his grip. 'Surely one of them would be able to heal this without any second thought…"

"I can take care of you myself, Hermione! I don't need anyone's help!' he cried angrily.

Hermione blinked, taken aback by the tone of his voice. He had completely released her now, and was standing in front of her with the soaked rag in his fist, his face angry and hurt and scared. His chest was heaving with the emotions he was feeling, and it was the most open he'd been with her since they'd gotten properly together.

"I'm not a useless dolt, Hermione.' He yelled. 'I know how to do magic, and I know how to help you! There were dozens of people back in Devon that were injured, most far worse than you, and they needed those Mediwizards more! I brought you back here to get you out of harms way! What did you want me to do? Hide behind a boulder and some sheep? This was the only place I could think of in that moment! Hell, it was the _only_ thing I could think of in that moment! The knowledge that I can fix you up is the only thing keeping me together! If I don't stop this bleeding you'll pass out or worse! Now, for once in your life will you just shut the hell up and let me fucking _help you_?"

Silence followed this outburst, broken only by Ron's heavy breathing. Hermione looked at him, aghast. He was shaking. In all their years of fighting he had never spoken to her like this. He looked so stricken with worry that the only thing holding him up was the will to help her. And here she was, pushing him away?

Hermione said nothing as she winced and held her arm out for him.

Ron clenched his jaw, gathering up his resolve and went back to work on her arm. Gently, he smoothed the murky liquid over her cut. Hermione flinched and cried out through her teeth, but after a quick moment she relaxed and let out a sigh, feeling instantly better.

"Now, isn't that better?' asked Ron, arching his eyebrows at her.

Hermione smiled. "Much, thank you."

CRACK.

The three of them spun around as Harry appeared by the doorway, looking just as dirty and haggard as his two friends. His clothes were ripped, there was a nice shiny bruise forming under his left eye, his glasses were cracked and sitting askew on his nose and he looked as if he'd fallen into a pile of wood chips. When his eyes landed on Ron and Hermione, his look of panic faded instantly.

"Oh, thank God!' he sighed, coming straight over to them. 'People haven't been accounted for and I was worried about… I didn't know if you… I don't know what I would have done if…' he trailed off and fixed them both with a stare. 'Don't you two _ever_ do that to me again, do you understand?"

"Sorry,' smiled Hermione as she looked down at her arm, 'next time I'm spontaneously whisked away beyond my control, I'll call and let you know."

Harry looked down at her arm as Ron waved his wand over it, muttering spells to himself over his breath. "Bloody hell, Hermione!"

"What?' she laughed. 'You saw it before!"

"Yeah, but I didn't think it was _that_ bad!' said Harry, looking at her with the same expression on worry Ron was wearing. 'What did you do, challenge Bellatrix to a sword fight?"

"I wouldn't, personally.' Said Draco. 'She is quite the whiz with a blade. Its primitive, but my Aunt does love the odd dissection every now and again."

The trio just looked at him.

Draco folded his arms over his chest. "Hmph, tough room."

Hermione winced as the spells Ron was working began to seal her wound back up slowly, tendon by tendon, fold by fold. "Yeah, you should have seen her before Malfoy got the Murtlap and made her look all beautiful and yellow."

Harry looked around at Draco. The blonde was still standing there, silently watching everything that was happening. His face had been full of expression, curiosity and intrigue. But the split second after he realized he was being paid attention to again, his face went steely and guarded once more.

"You helped?' asked Harry, surprised.

Draco looked down at the floor. "A little."

"_OW_!" cried Hermione, flinching again. 'Gah, _jeez_… heavens to _Murgatriode_…'

Ron winced. "Sorry, I overdid it.' He said, looking at her apologetically.

"How do you even know _how_ to do it?' asked Harry.

"I've been reading.' Said Ron, examining Hermione's arm. 'Not just the usual bollocks we've been drowning in for the past six months, other stuff. Spells on healing and the like. Plus, Harry, I asked your Mum. She knows a hell of a lot of charms!"

"Charms was one of her best subjects.' Smiled Harry. 'Plus, she knew a lot for healing because of Remus. After they left school, and Madam Pomfrey wasn't there to patch him up anymore after he shifted, Mum took over. She'd also fix Dad and Sirius and Wormtail up too if they every got injured by accident. I think it was her way of helping Remus deal, seen as she couldn't transform like the others and actually be there."

"And here I was thinking you weren't learning anything.' Said Hermione, giving Ron a proud smile.

Ron looked up at her and laughed.

Harry reached out and smoothed Hermione's hair. "As long as you're alright now. That's all that matters."

Hermione smiled and put a hand over his. "Yes, Harry, I'm fine. Here, give me your glasses."

"Thanks. I would have fixed them but you do a much better job…"

Draco continued to watch the three of them. They talked, smiled, jibed and laughed as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As if they hadn't just gone and risked their lives. As if one of them hadn't been seriously injured. They were joking about their narrow escapes. They were teasing Death Eaters and their stupidity to fail to recognize the obvious. It was strange to think that Team 'Down with Voldie' would actually speak about other people like this. Draco had heard the Death Eaters insulting Order members many times in the past, but he had never even though that they would do the same. Looking back now, it seemed like an absurd assumption. The Order members hated they Death Eaters just as much as the Death Eaters hated them.

He looked back at Hermione's arm, the wound barely a shadow of the horrific gorge of her flesh it had been before. It was still covered with yellow Murtlap Essence, and it was pulsating with a blue energy as Ron's spell continued to work on sewing her flesh back together. In the hand her injured arm was attached to, she held Harry's broken glasses. In her right hand was her wand, and she tapped the glasses softly, wordlessly repairing them. Harry watched on with blurry, naked eyes, his arms folded over his chest as he talked to Ron, encouraging him for his speedy work and level-headedness in Hermione's situation. He didn't know what he expected them to do when they returned home unvictorious from Death Eater encounters. Wallow in self pity, perhaps? Bask in the brilliance of their failure? Sit around the table, drowning their sorrows and drinking themselves into a comatose? Certainly not chatting and smiling. They'd had, by the looks of it, had their backsides smothered into the dirt. Why were they smiling? Draco didn't know what to make of them, and he doubted he ever will. He looked at them critically. They were injured to the eyeballs, and seeing them like that made Draco feel something. It certainly wasn't concern, he knew that much. He wouldn't care if they all lost their heads and ran around bumping into the furniture.

Annoyance, that's what it was! He was annoyed. He was insulted. Insulted by their _humanity_. In his dreams, he had always envisioned many different ways and many different scenarios in which each of them was injured or hurt, but they had always been just that – dreams. In reality, nothing ever seemed to be able to touch them. They had seemed invincible, always able to squeeze their way out or trouble, or slip out of any situation. Potter had been confronted by the Dark Lord more times than anyone, and yet he had always managed to get away unharmed. He seemed untouchable, like someone had placed an Imperturbable Charm on him while still in the womb. Draco's vision of their immortality was being shattered before him and he was offended. Offended by their vulnerability. How dare they go out and get hurt! Shouldn't they have come home without a scratch on them? Hermione shouldn't have been hurt like that. She should have walked away unscathed! She shouldn't have been bleeding. It was this, Hermione's bleeding, that had shaken him the most.

Irritated by all this and the fact that Tonks still had not come home, thus continuing to leave him without a Butterbeer, he threw the Gryffindors a glare and stormed out of the room, their laughter trailing along behind him.

---------------

Harry gazed down at the top of his mother's head as she tended to his arm, wrapping it with a long white bandage. She had a gentle touch like Madam Pomfrey and Mrs. Weasley, as if he deserved nothing less than the most careful precision. Maybe it was a woman thing.

"You know, when I was pregnant I used to sit and look down at the huge, protruding belly that prevented me from putting on matching socks, and I used to wonder about all the scrapes you get into when you got older. I could envision all the grazed knees, and the broken arms, and the cut fingers, and the tree twigs in your hair as if you were standing right in front of me. I mean, there certainly wasn't any doubt that you wouldn't. After all, look at who your father was.' She smiled up at him.

He just smiled back, silent.

Lily's smile suddenly went stiff, and she looked back down at the arm she was bandaging. "But all the times I envisioned it, I never for a minute thought you would get hurt so badly, nor that would I have to patch you up this much."

Harry pursed his lips. "It's not like I go out and get injured on purpose."

"I didn't say that."

"And I don't ask you to put me back together either. I can do it myself."

"Well, you know what? If you continue to be a stubborn little git and refuse my help in these life threatening situations you go baring head-first into then, unsurprisingly, you _are_ going to get hurt!' she said, looking up at him again. 'So if I can't prevent these injuries, then the least you can do is belt up and let me try and fix you.'

She let out a short huff of irritation and went back to his bandage. He continued to look at her long after she'd looked away. Even after all this time, there were still moments where he could look at her and forget who she actually was; forget that he actually had a mother who would openly tell him if he was being a twerp without worrying about hurting his feelings. She was one of the few people left who would not lie to him because she was afraid she might upset him or hurt his feelings if she told him the truth.

He chewed on his tongue. "You're mad at me."

"No, Harry, I'm not mad at you. I'm just…' she paused, laughed and looked up at him hopelessly, 'you just _frustrate_ me sometimes!"

"_I _frustrate_ you_?' he laughed. 'Sure, alright…let's talk about all the times _you_ do the hypocrite dance, shall we? How you stand there and tell me not to go running head-on into ten Death Eaters just so you can stump me on the spot long enough to go and do it yourself?"

"Forgive me for being worried about you.' She said. 'And I'm not the only one either. Or have you forgotten about your incident with Remus?"

Harry scowled. "I didn't ask him to do that."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Oh, yes, of course. He should have just stood there and let your belly get sliced open. Harry, he was just trying to protect you. He cares about you, believe or not."

"How many times do I have to say it? I don't _need_ protection!' cried Harry irritably. 'I'm the Chosen One! I'm the Boy Who God-damn Lived! And more than that, I'm an _adult_! I'm not a defense little first year anymore! Wingardium Leviosa is not the only sodding spell I know! I know how to defend myself; its one of the few things I'm actually good at! I shouldn't still have to put up with this 'I'll look after you because you obviously can't do it' bollocks! Especially from Remus! I'm not his student anymore."

Lily looked up at him. "Are you going to let me finish wrapping up your arm or are you just going to sit there and ramble?"

Harry pouted. "I'm just going to ramble."

"Well, if you ask me you're just being paranoid about all this Death Eater business.' She said, casting spells on his bandages. 'I know what a bad confrontation looks like, and that was not one of them. We've got five of them in custody! We kicked their arse! We bad!"

"Having them in custody means nothing. And am I the only person who things of custard when they heard the word 'custody'?' he asked as an afterthought.

Lily fixed his bandage into place, stood up with a sigh and sat down next to him on his bed. "I know you're worried. You have good reason. After the mass breakout of Azkaban that happened two years ago it's natural to have doubts about the Ministry's capability to keep prisoners in check and under lock and key. But it's different now. Last time they were in denial about Voldemort being back. They weren't prepared like they are now. Kingsley and Moody and everyone else working at the Ministry assures us that they're almost ten times more alert than they were before. The Ministry may seem like brainless, useless dolts – and, lets face it, most of the time they are – but the majority of people working there are _good_ people; people who care about safety as much as we do. I think we can rest a little easier this time knowing that. Harry, just because it's in someone else's hands besides yours doesn't mean it's not safe. You're not responsible for everything, and I would have thought you would welcome the respite."

Harry leant forward and hunched his shoulders, letting his head drop as he rested his elbows on his knees. "I know, and I don't want to think about what would happen if they all broke out again… especially considering the fact that they've probably all gotten glimpses of you.' He smiled but didn't look up. 'Sorry, I know how I sound… like a complete nut job…"

"Don't worry,' she smiled, 'I am well aware of the Potter neuroses."

"I prefer to think of them as 'quirks'."

Lily laughed, patted him on the back and got to his feet. "Come on, I have to go check on Hermione's arm. You coming downstairs?"

Harry looked up. "Maybe in a minute. I just…' he trailed off.

Lily didn't need to hear the rest. She nodded knowingly, raked her fingers through his hair and left.

Harry sat up and slouched. He let his head fall back and he blew air out through his lips as he stared up at the ceiling. He felt as if his head were so full his neck would buckle under the weight. He was just so _worried_. Worried about the Death Eaters in Azkaban, worried about Voldemorts plans, if any, to once again break them all out, worried about Hermione, worried about the final two Horcruxes still yet to be found… so worried about everything that it send every molecule in his body into 'alert' mode, ready for anything to jump out at him.

He rubbed his scar and groaned. It was aching terribly. It had been all day. He felt odd, like Voldemort was pushing that fine line that separated them to see how much it would bend. It didn't feel like Legilimency, but Harry tried to keep his mind clear just to be safe. He didn't need Voldemort helping himself to the private information Harry held so dear. The Horcurxes, Lily alive, Draco living with them…

He shook his head and got to his feet. All this worrying was frustrating and annoying. He needed to be doing something to take his mind off it all.

The top half of the house was empty and quiet. No doubt everyone from the Order was downstairs in the kitchen, talking about the confrontation they had just had. It had been in the middle of a school this time. A Primary school. Even just thinking about the audacity of them for attacking children, defenseless _children_, in broad daylight almost pushed Harry's anger over the edge. It had been pandemonium when they had arrived. There were people screaming, kids huddled in corners crying, teachers standing in front of their class of students protectively, police cars and fire trucks out the front of the building, thinking bombs were going off inside. But the thing Harry remembered most were the bodies. The small, lifeless little bodies, some still slumped in their chairs having been killed before even having the chance to get up and run. Their eyes wide with terror when they should be wide with excitement and wonder; with life. There had been eleven dead by the time it was all over. Three teachers, an Auror, two Death Eaters and five children.

_Five children. _

Harry felt his chest began to constrict as he thought about it. This attack had been pointless. It had no strategy save for one – to get to him. Harry could feel Voldemort's pleasure at Harry's pain. His scar had not stopped throbbing all day. It was, he knew, Voldemort's way of saying 'stick that your cauldron and stir it, Potter'. It was his way of saying that he could do anything he wanted, destroy anything he desired, take as many lives as he wished, and Harry could do nothing about it. Harry also knew why Voldemort would do this, these pointless, random acts of destruction. It was to pull Harry's defenses down. To try and get inside his head; to line the feelings of happiness and love with guilt and anguish and anger as a way to try and get in without detection or pain. But Harry wouldn't let him. He had to keep his guilt to a minimum; had to keep it from consuming him like it sometimes seemed it would. It was hard, almost the hardest thing he had to do, and every day it seemed to get more difficult… but Harry wouldn't give in that easily.

In these moments, the aftershocks of their confrontations with Death Eaters, the importance of the Horcruxes and finding them was always shoved violently back to the priority list it would slowly slide down. He looked down at his bandaged arm and flexed it, and thought about those children, and the Aurors, and even Hermione. How many more lives was he going to put at risk before he got back on track? His attention had wavered, what with Christmas and Ginny coming over and Draco moving in, he'd been distracted. It wasn't good enough. He needed to stay focused. He needed to clear his mind of all these endless distractions…

"Ooof! Walk much, Potter?"

Harry jolted back and glared up at the person he had just walked into. "Stuff it, Malfoy."

Draco rubbed his arm where Harry had dreamily walked into him. "Why are you up here all by your merrily little self instead of downstairs with your comrades in arms, patting each other on the back for another job well done?"

"We lost nine people today.' He said, looking down at his feet.

"I was told eleven.' Said Draco.

"The two Death Eaters don't count." Said Harry.

"Don't _count_!' cried Draco, pink coloring his pale cheeks.

"They killed children today, Malfoy.' Said Harry, his voice low. He was far too drained for this conversation. 'I saw their bodies. I held their lifeless hands in my own. You'll have to excuse me if I'm a little bitter and resentful toward the bastards responsible."

Draco pursed his lips, a frown knotting his eyebrows together. "Children, you say?"

Harry sighed. "I'm not in the mood for this, Malfoy. Go ask Tonks if you want details."

"No, wait a moment…' said Draco, blocking Harry's path as he started to leave. He held up a hand, curiosity evident in his face. 'So… Granger got hurt trying to save some little muggle children?"

"Yes, she did. As you know, you have your favorite Aunt to thank for her injury. You know she almost cost Hermione the use of her arm!" added Harry angrily.

"Well, what did she expect was going to happen?' asked Draco lazily. 'Honestly, a Mudblood like her going up against a Pure-blood witch like Bella? Its blatant stupidity."

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy.' Growled Harry, fuming.

Draco sighed. "Oh don't go getting all huffy at me, you know it's true. I really don't know why you let them tag along when you're so worried about them getting hurt."

"I do not _let_ them tag along. You think I want them involved in this?"

"Well, if you don't you're doing a right bang-up job showing it, aren't you, Potter?"

"Shut _up_, Malfoy!"

"And the witty retorts just keep coming.' Smirked Draco, having fun. 'If Granger and Weasley continue to follow you, you will loose them. They will get hurt and die, or they will get scared and leave. And you know it. And yet you're still as selfish as you've always been and continue to lead them around like the good, brainless little minions that they are."

It happened quick as a flash. Harry grabbed Draco by the front of his jumper, swung him around and angrily slammed him up against the wall. He was so light, so thin, that Harry hardly had to use any force at all. But that didn't stop him. Draco let out a grunt of pain, but laughed down at Harry's living face, just inches from his own.

"The truth hurts, doesn't it, Potter?' chuckled Draco.

"So does my fist.' Growled Harry, green eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Yes, I know. We've met before, as I recall.' Said Draco, swallowing.

"You watch your mouth from now on, do you hear me?' snarled Harry.

"Aw, did I hit a sore spot?' said Draco patronizingly. 'You don't need me to tell you this; the evidence thus far is overwhelming! Anyone who comes near you automatically has a death sentence. Why would you keep people you supposedly care about so close to you when you know they're in danger? You're an idiot, Potter, plain and simple. You can't protect them! You're leading them to their deaths, and the Dark Lord will take great pleasure in taking them right before your eyes."

SMACK.

Draco dropped to the floor with a cry of pain, holding a hand over the eye where Harry had just hit him with all the strength he could muster. Harry stood over him, satisfied for only a moment, before Draco quickly rose to his feet and rammed into Harry angrily, slamming him into the nearest wall. Harry grunted, but recovered quickly. He grabbed Draco again by the front of his robes and hit him again, slamming his fist into Draco's side, feeling the crunch of ribs underneath his knuckles as they forcefully connected. Draco let out a howl of pain and anger, bent over double and with a swift movement grabbed Harry around the middle and shoved him back into a small table, causing the large white vase sitting upon it to fall to the floor and shatter. Harry grabbed Draco's forearms, pried the vice-like grip on his shirt and shoved Draco away. Draco tripped over the corner of the rug and fell to the floor, pulling Harry down with him. Harry didn't waste any time. He laid blow after blow into Draco, hitting him in the face, in the stomach, in the chest, anywhere he could get. Anger was pulsating through his veins, crawling under his skin, itching to get out. All the pent up frustration and guilt and sadness was coming out, and it was impossible to stop. He couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop.

Draco took one last blow to the face, before deciding that this had gone quite far enough. He grabbed Harry around the neck and squeezed tightly, cutting off Harry's air. Harry's eyes bulged and he stopped hitting Draco instantly. He gasped for air, his face going purple. Draco bared his teeth and growled menacingly as he slowly sat up, pushing Harry off him. Harry clawed at Draco's hands, his mouth opening and closing, desperate for oxygen. Draco just sat there, his fingers locked around Harry's neck for a long moment, before he released him, lifted up his foot and planted it square in the middle of Harry's chest, kicking him backward. Harry rolled over and slowly managed to get up on all fours, his forehead against the floorboards as he gasped for air, his glasses sitting on the very tip of his nose and his hair falling over his face. Draco slowly got to his feet, wincing with pain at the bruises he knew would be all over his body in the morning. After a moment, Harry got to his feet, glared at Draco across from him for a moment, and then without warning swung out at him again. Draco ducked the blow only just in time, and he recovered quickly, grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt and slammed up back up against the wall bumping into a large portrait; the old woman riding a unicorn shrieking in terror and riding out of the frame. Harry tried to move, but he was either too weak from the lack of oxygen or Draco was surprisingly strong. The blonde looked much worse for wear; his hair was disheveled, his right eye was bleeding, his jumper was ripped and there was a purple bruise forming under his left eye.

Draco gave Harry a little shake. "You've damaged my beautiful face, Potter. Apologize to me."

Harry looked at him for a moment, before spitting blood in his face. "Go fuck yourself, Malfoy."

Draco closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, pausing. He wiped the blood away from his face with his shoulder and raised a fist, knuckles red. He glared at Harry's face, hesitating.

"Go on, hit me. You know you want to.' challenged Harry weakly, his chest heaving and his glasses cracked. He went slack against Draco, not bothering to struggle. 'Hit me, Malfoy. _HIT ME_!"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?' sneered Malfoy. 'You'd like me to beat you down. You'd like to feel like you deserve it. You probably do. You'd like to feel the pain you know you should.' He shook Harry again, as if trying to knock some sense into him. 'Don't get me wrong, I'd love to do nothing more than bash that fat head of yours in until the scar on your forehead is the only appealing feature left… but I'm not going to give you the satisfaction, nor am I going to drop stone cold dead at your feet just for a moment's enjoyment."

Harry glared at him as he lowered his fist. "You can't hit me. You can't do it."

Draco pushed Harry harder into the wall. "I _won't_ do it."

Harry shoved Draco harshly back and grabbed him by the collar. Draco did the same and the two glared at each other, keeping each other at an arms length with a tight, violent, angry grip. They were so livid at one another, that they didn't even notice that they were no longer alone.

"Harry! Draco!' cried Lily, looking at the two boys in horror from the top of the stairs. 'Harry, let go of him this _instant_!"

Hermione, Ron, Tonks and Lily had all come upstairs having heard the commotion from the lower floors. They all stood at the top of the stairs, looking at Draco and Harry practically strangling each other in fury.

Tonks moved forward. "Draco, let go of him! _Draco_!"

"Piss ass weak… stupid git…' Harry was muttering through his teeth, his eyes watering.

Draco shook him, hitting Harry in the chin with his fist accidentally. "Sick of you, Potter… just die already…"

Ron, Hermione and Lily moved forward to stand with Tonks, all of them apprehensive of approaching.

"Harry, stop it!" cried Hermione. 'Let go of him, this isn't helping! Your arm…"

"Malfoy, get off him!' snapped Ron, making to intervene.

But he didn't get a chance. For in a whirl of movement, a large figure barged forward, grabbed Draco around the chest and ripped him away from Harry. He shoved Draco up against the wall insistently, not aggressively, and planted a hand on his chest to hold him in place.

It was Remus.

Draco looked up at him with surprise, his grey eyes wide. Remus was looking right at him with the deadliest look he'd ever given him. He looked terrible, what with the Full Moon approaching, but despite all this his light brown eyes were narrowed dangerously, and everything about his posture was screaming 'it's that time of the month, do _not_ mess with me'. Where Draco would normally flare up with indignation, he found himself rooted to the spot by the last person in the world he ever expected to be intimidated by.

"Don't you even _think_ about moving.' Said Remus, his voice low.

As soon as they had been separated, Lily, Ron and Hermione and rushed to Harry. The black haired boy was looking at Draco still with narrowed eyes of fury, even as Lily and Hermione scolded him.

Tonks came to stand over with Draco, look at him with horror. "Draco, look at your _face_…"

"What the hell was this about?' demanded Lily, looking at Harry and Draco in turn. 'Both of you, explain yourselves!"

Harry said nothing, just glared at Draco.

Remus looked back at Draco. "What happened?"

Draco looked up at him. "Don't look at me! He hit me first!"

"He wouldn't hit you without reason, Draco.' Said Remus.

"I think the bruises on my face say otherwise!" cried Draco, furious.

Remus looked away from Draco, back at Harry. "Go to your room, Draco.'

Draco flared up. "I beg your pardon? I'm not some little child you can just…"

Remus whirled around and glared at Draco, a low, primal growl coming from the base of his throat. His eyes flashed and his posture stiffened. Draco's eyes widened and he shut his mouth, pressing himself against the wall.

Tonks grabbed Draco by the hand. "Come on, I'll clean you up."

Draco held Remus's gaze for a long moment, before he blinked and reluctantly let Tonks lead him away back down the hall toward his room. The others watched him go, waiting until he was out of earshot before they spoke.

Lily grabbed Harry's face in her hands. "Are you completely insane? Did he hurt you?"

Harry winced and tried to push her away; wishing Ron would get Hermione out of his personal space. "Stop it, I'm fine."

"Obviously you're not fine.' Said Remus, coming over to stand in front of him. His expression was much softer now. 'Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I said I'm fine, stop your fussing.' Muttered Harry, rubbing his scar. It was throbbing like mad.

"What on earth was that all about, then?' demanded Lily angrily. 'It's not like you to just start fights, especially with Draco…"

Ron snorted.

"…oh shut up, Ron. I mean school rivalries aside!' snapped Lily, giving Ron a look.

"Did he say anything to you? To provoke you, I mean.' asked Hermione.

Harry looked at his feet and folded his arms over his sore chest. "No."

Lily took his face in her hands again, examining him. "Did he hurt you? You're looking pale.'

"I'm _fine_, Mum! If he'd hurt me badly Tonks would have been taking a corpse with her."

"If he didn't provoke you then what happened?' asked Remus again.

"We just had a tiff, that's all.' Said Harry irritably. His scar was prickling and he wanted to lie down. He felt light-headed, dizzy. 'Can we just drop it, please?" He made to walk off, but Remus caught him softly by the shoulder and pulled him to a stop.

"Harry, I understand that you're under a lot of stress right now. What happened today…well, it was beyond a tragedy. We all feel the hurt.' Said Remus softly. 'But if there's something wrong you need to talk to us, not treat Draco like your own personal punching bag."

"Not that _that_ wouldn't be fun.' Smirked Ron.

"We're here for you, you need to know that.' Said Remus.

"Yeah, I _know_ that, but sometimes I just don't want to talk about things, alright?' snapped Harry. 'Sometimes I just want to be left alone to think! Is that to much to ask for? If there's something wrong, I don't always need help. I can figure it out on my own."

"I understand that, Harry.' Said Remus, holding up his hands. 'I don't mean to lecture and I don't mean to preach, and I know I'm not your father…"

"Then stop pretending to be!"

The second the words left his mouth, Harry wished he could take it back. He heard Hermione gasp behind him, but paid it no mind as he saw Remus's expression fall in front of him. His lined, tired face, already so sickly, went ghostly white. Harry instantly felt even more terrible than he had before. He felt bile rise up in his throat, disgusted with himself. What had he gone and done _now_?

Remus nodded and clenched his jaw. He took a long, deep breath and let it out again slowly, looking around at anything but the people in front of him. "Get some rest.' He said softly.

And with that, he turned on his heel and left, limping down the stairs.

Harry watched him go as if it were in slow motion. He wanted to scream out, to tell him to stop, that he hadn't meant it. He wanted to oblivitate the past ten minutes from existence. He wanted to drop to his knees in front of one of his most favorite people in the world and beg for forgiveness. But he did nothing, just stood there in silence and watched until Remus was completely out of view.

It seemed an eternity passed, but it was only a second when Lily entered his line of vision. He blinked and focused in on her properly, looking up at her. She was absolutely livid.

"You… get to your room… _now_.' She growled.

Numb and unable to even think of protesting, Harry turned around and followed his mother to his room, passing Ron and Hermione without a word.

--------------

"Ow!"

"Well, don't squirm!"

"How can I not squirm? You are digging fingernails into me!"

"Honestly, you're such a girl."

"I beg your pardon? I am a supreme example of masculinite_eeeEEYEOW_!! Nymphadora, will you _desist_, for the sake of what little ribs I have left?"

Tonks sighed and let her hands fall slack as Draco pushed her away again. He hugged his side tenderly, wincing at the pressure. Tonks just looked at him wearily with the rag still in her hand. "Do you want any blood left?"

Draco looked at her. "Is that a rhetorical question?"

"Just shut up and let me disinfect you so I can try and heal you. And _don't_ call me 'Nymphadora'." Snapped Tonks.

Draco inhaled sharply through his teeth as Tonks dabbed the cloth against the cuts on his bare chest, cleaning the wounds. Harry hadn't directly caused them; they had been a result of being knocked around so much.

The two of them were sitting in Draco's room on his bed, him sitting at the head and her sitting in front of him at the foot, ointments and cloth and her wand scattered around her. Draco was sitting topless as she worked on his bruises and cuts, a non-stop stream of complaints to compliment her good charity in doing a service no-one else wanted to do.

Tonks, finishing with his chest, moved onto the bruise on his face. "He really got into you, didn't he?"

"Ten points for the girl down front, Miss Obvious.' Scowled Draco.

"There's no need to be pissy at me. I'm not the one who hit you…as much as I'd sometimes like to be…"

"That is not a comforting thing to hear from the woman who is putting…' he paused and sniffed the towel with a grimace as Tonks dabbed it onto his cheekbone, '…good _grief_ what _is_ that you're putting on my skin?"

"Murtlap Essence. It's to help the pain."

"I'm not _in_ pain."

"Oh really? Then why are you sweating?"

Draco clenched his jaw, glaring at her smug look. "I don't _sweat_, I _glisten_."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Well, you're glistening like a pig. Now belt up and let me fix you. Bloody pulp is unbecoming of a Malfoy."

Draco threw her a look and winced again from the pain and the smell, but kept his mouth shut. He watched her heart-shaped face as she continued to tend to him; she had leant in so close he could see the soft freckles scattered across her nose. Although he loathed admitting it, it was rather nice of her to take care of him like this. Even if she did have big fumbling fingers and didn't know how to take care of him properly – as a Malfoy should be taken care of.

"You hesitated.' She said softly.

"Sorry?"

"You had the chance to hit Harry and you hesitated.' She clarified. 'Why did you do that?"

"You mean aside from wanting to live?' he asked. He flinched against the rag, but didn't shove her away, just pondered her question. 'I don't know, it didn't seem right. If I'm going to pummel Potter, he's going to be in the right frame of mind. It would have been like hitting a crazy person – not at all worth it. Besides, he _wanted_ me to hit him. The last thing I want to do is give him want he wants, or make him happy."

Tonks looked at him properly and frowned.

Draco squirmed under her gaze. "What are you looking at?"

"You.' She smiled. 'Sometimes you make it hard to hate you."

"I know.' Grinned Draco. 'Its part of my charm."

Tonks gave him a look. "And sometimes you make it easy."

Draco smile fell. "It's not my fault Potter went all Blast-Ended Skrewt on me."

"You shouldn't taunt him.' Said Tonks, picking up her wand and performing spells. 'If you didn't bait him he wouldn't have to kick your arse back into place now would he? You play with fire; you're going to get burned. But, if it makes you feel any better, you were a good bit of therapy for him."

"Yes, I feel _so_ much better knowing he broke my face in a good way. It is a good bruise."

"You're lucky,' said an annoyed voice from the doorway, 'I could have made it a lot worse."

Tonks and Draco looked around to see Harry leaning against the doorframe, and Draco couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction at the state Harry was in. His glasses had been repaired and he had changed his clothes, and although he didn't have any obvious bruises or cuts on him like Draco did, the blonde knew just from the hunch of his shoulders and the depressed expression on his face that Harry had somehow come out of the fight worse than he had gone into it.

Harry looked right back a Draco, feeling momentarily better with himself as he took notice of how much damaged he had caused to the Slytherin's stupid, blemish-free, botox-ed face.

Draco gave him a superior look. "Ah, Potter. Come to apologize? Better late than never, I suppose. Very well, you may grovel at my feet when you're ready."

"I'd sooner puke out my intestines and snorkel in them than apologize to you, Malfoy.' Snapped Harry.

"Well, if you've come here to get into another fight then you needn't bother.' Said Tonks irritably. 'I've had enough of Draco's whining and the wretched smell of Murtlap Essence and I refuse to clean up either one of you."

"I didn't come here for that.' Said Harry.

"Came to bask in my magnificent glow?' smiled Draco, puffing his chest out.

Harry looked at him fearfully. "You used to dress up in your mothers clothes as a child, didn't you?"

Draco glared at him. "Potter, if you didn't come here to apologize or to lick my boots, what _did_ you come here for?"

"To tell you that I'm sick to death of the sight of you.' Snapped Harry angrily.

"Really?' retorted Draco, getting to his feet quickly and closing the distance between them.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, really! What part of punching you in the face did you not you understand? I'm sick of seeing you every morning. I'm sick of your annoying ability to show up just when I think my day cant get and bloody worse! And most of all, I'm sick and tired of you parading around this house like you're on holiday or like nothing can touch you. You're not here for protection! You're not here because I like you or think I ever _could_ like you. The only reason you're staying here is because I want to use you!"

Draco snorted. "Who was it again who's been wearing ladies underthings?"

"Okay, calm down!' cried Tonks, stepping in the small crevice between the two boys as Harry raised his fist again.

Harry lowered his fist slowly, Tonks's presence shoving things back into focus. He winced and rubbed his scar again, just for a moment, before backing up a few steps and jabbing a finger at Draco.

"When I made up my mind to let you stay here I intended to get as much information out of you as possible, yet so far you've done diddly-squat! I'm sick of you not pulling your weight around here. I'm sick of you not helping!"

"I beg your pardon?' snarled Draco over Tonks's shoulder. 'I've read more books than the contents of the entire bloody Hogwarts Library! Every time I finish one, Granger hands me another! I honestly don't know where she pulls them all from! Probably that small crevice up her ass reserved for her precious volumes…"

"Don't start, Malfoy.' Growled Harry.

"The point is, Potter, than you cannot expect me to help when you do not tell me what it is I'm meant to be researching!' snapped Draco. 'How am I to know I've found something, and as a result be of any sort of help, if I don't know even know what it is I'm looking for? I'm not going to tell anyone the big secret, I'm not that stupid! I wouldn't betray you to the Death Eaters, not because I don't want to…that's a ludicrous assumption…but because I'd die if I did. Honestly, Potter, were you absent the day they were handing out brains?"

Harry clenched his jaw and looked at him. As much as he hated to admit it, Draco did have a point. How was he going to be any sort of help if he didn't tell him what he was looking for? Draco might know a lot about Horcruxes, considering who his family was. He might know spells for locating them, or for identifying them. Was he willing to take the risk and tell Draco Malfoy, one of his most hated enemies, just about everything?

Harry heaved a sigh, turned on his heel and marched out of the room, calling 'Follow me; we're going downstairs' over his shoulder.

Draco and Tonks exchanged a look. Draco went to follow, but Tonks stopped him.

"Don't be a prat about this.' She warned.

"I do have the ability to make my own decisions, you know.' He said. 'Potter thinks I can't help, and I want the chance to prove him wrong. I can be more helpful than they realize."

"There's no need for sarcasm."

"I'm not _being_ sarcastic!" snapped Draco, marching out of the room.

"Well, it's hard to tell sometimes.' Blushed Tonks, running after him.

* * *

A/N – Well, another long chapter after another long absence! This will probably be it until after Christmas; I hope it will tide you over until then! Liked it? Hated it? Let me know!

Please review!


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37!

* * *

Why was it always raining?

It was one of the few things Lily hated about living in England – it was always cold, or wet, or raining. Well no, that wasn't fair. It wasn't a country of constant miserable weather. Some days were particularly lovely and warm and sunny and would lift your mood to a new plateau. But it seemed to be a constant pattern that whenever they returned from another bad encounter with Death Eaters, it would rain. Maybe it was to match their moods. Miserable weather to accompany a dismal afternoon. It would seem rather cruel to have nice sunny weather when children were no longer around to enjoy it.

Lily pursed her lips as dozens of images flashed through her memory. Little girls huddled around the ankles of their teacher with tears streaking down their eyes, older kids lying lifelessly in front of younger kids they had died trying to protect, teachers bloodied and injured and shaking from a torturous curse…

She wiped a tear from her eye and rested her chin on her hands. She was sitting on top of the dining table, her feet resting on a chair and her elbows on her knees as she stared out the window. She was exhausted and felt as if she could sleep for three weeks straight, but didn't dare close her eyes for more than a second and see those images dance in front of her again. She didn't want to think about those children, about their wide lifeless eyes staring up at her. Thinking about it made her blood surge with sadness, frustration and anger to an almost potent extreme. Sadness for the loss of so many innocent lives, frustration for not having the power to correct it, and anger for the person responsible and the stupid prophecy that proclaimed her son, her _baby_, was apparently the only one who could do anything about it.

She looked up at the ceiling and thought about him up in his room. It was amazing how quickly her emotions about him could change so drastically in such a small amount of time. Just fifteen minutes ago she had been absolutely furious with him. The way he had spoken to Remus, what he had said, had been completely disrespectful and out of line, not to mention just plain cruel. She understood that Harry had been down from the ordeal they had been through, but that did not excuse him treating people that way. When she had (not very quietly) put him back in his place, he didn't contradict her or try to defend himself. He knew what he had done, and that it had been wrong, and he had simply sat on his bed with his head bowed, taking in every word she'd said. Where she had been livid at him, now she was stricken with worry. He'd looked so pale and so tired, and he kept wincing every few minutes as if he were pain. His hand, which had been resting in his lap, would flinch as if he were desperate to reach up and rub his aching scar but didn't want to do so in front of her. She wanted to hold him in her arms and rock him, smooth his hair and whisper in his ear that it would all be alright, that everything would be fine, but she couldn't. He wasn't a baby anymore; he would be embarrassed and offended by it.

Six months later, and still she did not know how to be a good mother to a hero.

Lily was startled from her pensive mood by Ron's voice. She blinked and looked over her shoulder as the tall, red-headed teen walked over to his girlfriend sitting at the other end of the table.

Hermione looked up from her book as he sat down on the table near her. "Where have you been?"

"Talking to Charlie in the Floo.' He said, cracking his knuckles. Lily was amused to see Hermione wince at the noise.

"Oh yes, and?"

"He's coming back next week after the last three Fireball eggs have hatched. Says he wants to be there when they pop-out.' He snorted and shook his head. 'You'd think his missus was giving birth to his son the way he talks."

Lily smiled and went back to the window, tuning them out once more.

Ron sighed and ruffled his hair as he looked down at Hermione, her eyes moving back and forth as she leisurely read her book. "What are you doing?"

"Baking scones."

"Okay, wrong question… why are you not upstairs resting?"

"Because I do not _need_ rest, Ron, as I've been saying for the past hour."

"Hermione, you lost twenty ounces of blood!' said Ron.

She shrugged. "And I'm taking my Blood Replenishing Potion."

"But…"

"Ron, I'm not up all over the house doing highly stressful physical activities.' Laughed Hermione. 'I'm _reading_; not something that usually requires a lot of effort – although in _your_ case…."

Ron kicked her thigh playfully.

Hermione hit him in the knee.

Ron craned his neck to see the pages of her book. "What're you reading?"

"Shakespeare." Smiled Hermione.

"What?' asked Ron, puzzled.

"_Shakespeare_."

"What's a 'shake spear'?" he asked.

Hermione looked up at him, astonished. "You've never heard of Shakespeare?"

"Aside from the past fifteen seconds of my life, no."

Hermione just gaped at him.

Ron laughed, placed a finger under her chin and closed her mouth. "Don't look so shocked! It's not my fault I haven't read every book ever written in the history of ever."

"You've never heard the quote, '_To be, or not to be – that is the question'_?"

"Nope."

"'_All_ _the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players'_?"

"Uh, no."

"'_Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo_?"

"Nuh uh."

Hermione's mouth dropped open again.

Ron squirmed. "Not _my_ fault. Who is this Shakesteer bloke, anyway?"

"Shake_speare_. He was, and still is, one of the world's greatest writers.' Said Hermione, beaming down at her book. 'His work has a timeless eloquence that no-one since him have yet matched or bettered."

"You read his stuff much?"

"Not as much as I used to, but yes.'

"Sounds like a bit of a ponce to me.' said Ron. 'Who says things like 'art' and 'thou' anyway? What do they even mean? Is he French?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Here, listen…' she flipped forward a few pages and cleared her throat. '_But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green, And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.-- It is my lady; O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were!_"

Ron looked down at her for a long moment. "What the _hell_ did you just say?"

Hermione sighed. "Its 'Romeo and Juliet'. Romeo's snuck onto Juliet's property and spotted her up on a balcony. He is down on the ground, looking up at her, quietly confessing to himself how much he loves and adores her."

"I think Romeo's had a bit too much Meade.' He said.

"It's supposed to be romantic.' Giggled Hermione.

Ron hunched his shoulders. "Read me some more. Slower this time."

Hermione considered him skeptically for a moment, before reading on. "_She speaks, yet she says nothing: what of that? Her eye discourses, I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright That birds would sing and think it were not night.-- See how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!"_

She looked up at him and was surprised to see him looking thoughtful. He had a small quirk to the corner of his mouth, as if trying not to smile. "Do you like it?"

Ron shrugged and cleared his throat. "Yeah, well…it's alright, you know… for total gibberish."

Hermione laughed and pulled out a book from under a pile on the table. "Here, read this."

"What's this? '_Macbeth'_?' he asked, reading the title. 'More 'Shake-a-deer'?"

"I think you'll like it.' She smiled.

Ron rolled his eyes. "First you want me to read a gajillion books on a history of _everything_, and now you want me to read for the _fun_ of it? Have you completely lost what little marbles you had left?"

Hermione patted his knee. "Just read it."

Ron looked at her doubtfully, before opening the book and scanning a few pages.

Hermione smiled at him, pleased she had, after seven years of effort, actually managed to get him interested in some sort of literature that did not contain the word 'Quidditch'. She looked over at Lily down the other end of the table to ask her if she was into Shakespeare at all, but her question fell short as she caught sight of the depressed expression on the older woman's face.

"Mrs. Potter?' she asked tentatively. 'Are you alright?"

Lily jolted again out of her daydreaming by her name being spoken, turned around and looked to see Hermione looking at her and Ron just tuning in, his blue eyes falling on her as well.

She smiled and nodded. "Of course I am, don't be silly."

"Are you sure?' asked Hermione again. 'You look a little…"

"Have you taken your potion again?' asked Lily quickly, cutting her off. 'You have to take it every fifteen minutes for the first hour, remember. I don't want you passing out on me."

Hermione opened her mouth to push her issue further, but Ron caught her eye. He shook his head quickly with a frown and turned to his best friend's mother with a smile. "I'll get it for her now."

Lily smiled, got to her feet and ran a hand through her hair. "You're a good boy. Hermione is…"

But what Hermione was, they didn't get to find out, because in that moment loud voices approached, and then three people burst into the kitchen, two of them shouting at one another.

"…not _my_ fault you're a mentally unstable git, Potter!"

"You could make a _saint_ swear, Malfoy, with your stupid voice and your stupid face…"

"A face you very rudely disfigured!"

"You're _bruised_, not _dying_… unfortunately."

"Yes, because _you_ being alive is a wonderful treat, isn't it!"

Harry had come in first, looking grumpy and irritable and ready to hit someone. Draco had come in second, looking scandalized and yet, as usual, attractively comfortable with his surroundings as if he owned the place. Tonks brought up the rear, her hands shoved moodily in her pockets as she glared at her cousin, desperately waiting for an opportunity to smack him across the back of the head.

Lily was on her feet instantly. "What are you two arguing about _now_?"

"Tomatoes.' Said Draco, throwing her a smirk. '_I_ think they're a berry, but Potter, the berk he is, refuses to see reason and wants to call them a 'vegetable'…"

"Draco, shut up.' said Lily flatly, giving him a look.

Draco shut his mouth.

"Hermione, where's that book on the Hogwarts Founders?' asked Harry sharply, marching over to the table.

Hermione, who had been downing the last remnants of her potion, put the vial down with a grimace and a 'blech!' and jumped up instantly, dropping her copy of Romeo and Juliet onto the floor. "I know I left it here somewhere… it's under all this…' she muttered, ruffling through the books and scattered pieces of parchment.

"Just summon it or something!' snapped Harry.

"Harry…' said Lily, beginning to reprimand him for his tone.

But Harry ignored her and turned to Draco, fixing him with a glare. 'Sit down."

"Actually, I'd rather stand…"

"_SIT_!"

Draco sighed, pulled out a chair beside a frantically searching Hermione and elegantly sat down as if he were having tea and scones.

Ron smiled. "Good dog."

Hermione shoved aside a few more books before crying out in triumph. "Here we go!"

Harry kept his eyes on Draco as Hermione handed him the large volume with beaming pride. She waited for his usual smile of thanks, but it did not come. Instead he sat down on the chair backwards in front of Draco. Hermione deflated and sat back down in her chair, not noticing Ron bending down to pick up the book she had dropped for her.

Harry folded his arms over the back of the chair and narrowed his eyes. "Lets not pussy foot around here…"

"Indeed, lets not.' Agreed Draco.

"Tell me what you know." Growled Harry.

"The tips of shoelaces are called 'Aglets'.' Said Draco, crossing one leg over the other. 'Their true purpose is sinister."

"Dammit, Malfoy, I'm being serious!"

Draco sighed, looked up at Ron and rapidly clicked his long fingers a few times. "Garcon, may I have a mineral water?"

Ron opened his mouth to snap back, but Harry reached out quick as a flash and grabbed Draco roughly by the front of his shirt. "Don't be an idiot."

"He can't help it, its habit by now.' Snapped Ron, folding his arms over his chest.

"Death Eaters. The Dark Lord. What do you know about them?' asked Harry again, giving Draco a shake.

Draco sighed impatiently, closed his hands around Harry's and slowly pried his grip from him. "Potter, be careful with the goods, will you? They are one of the only valuable things I have left. And since when do you call Him, '_The Dark Lord'_?"

"Harry, get up." snapped Lily as Harry went to throttle Draco. She marched around to him, grabbed him by the scruff of his collar and pulled him to his feet. He cried out in surprise, but was lead across to the other side of the room by his mother without room for comment.

"Ow!' he whispered when she finally let him go. 'What was _that_ for?'

"Be glad that's _all_ I did.' Growled Lily, folding her arms over her chest and glaring up at him. 'What's the matter with you?"

Harry frowned and looked back around at the group he'd just been dragged away from. Tonks was sitting in Harry's chair now having quiet but, judging from the irritated look on her face and the exasperated look on his, strong words with Draco. Ron and Hermione were sitting nearby, watching Harry intently.

Harry looked away from them guiltily and looked back down into the angry face of his mother. "I'm sorry, but he's…"

"No, _he's_ acting like he normally does.' Whispered Lily harshly. '_You're_ the one with a split personality today! One minute you're all upset, the next you're fine and then a second later you're biting everyone's head off!"

"I… I am?' asked Harry quietly.

Lily took a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting to ten. "Harry, you've had a hard day – we all have. Maybe you just need to go lie down for a while, have some rest…"

"You're as tired as I am.' Said Harry. 'Why aren't _you_ resting?"

Lily didn't answer.

Harry nodded. "Exactly."

He headed back over to the table, not looking at Hermione and Ron who were still watching him. He walked up and stood by Tonks's shoulder, just getting the last fragments of their conversation.

"…need to co-operate with him, and I know from your point of view that's like asking you to become the Head of the Department of Muggle Liaisons…' Tonks was saying.

"It's not about that.' Said Draco seriously. 'I can't help with what he wants help with. I _want_ to help… for some strange reason… but I don't know anything of use. I don't know anything.' He said, looking up at Harry sincerely.

"Bollocks.' Said Ron. 'How can you live with Death Eaters and not know anything?"

"How can you live with the Order of the Phoenix and not know anything?' retorted Draco.

Ron clenched his jaw, his ears going red.

"Despite the whole morality and sense of decency, we're really not all that different in our mindsets; it's the same basic principle on both sides.' Said Draco. 'I was not old enough to be privy to such exclusive information. All that I learned I heard through keyholes in doors or in passing in the halls. No-one ever came and told me anything more than I needed to know."

"In other words, you weren't as bad-ass as you've been boasting.' Said Harry.

Draco glared at him. "My ass is the baddest you've ever met, Potter."

"You weren't privy to this information because they didn't trust you.' Said Hermione, looking very disappointed. 'You weren't highly respected enough, were you?"

"Rub it in a bit more, Granger.' Scowled Draco, his cheeks going pink. He looked back up at Harry. 'I could tell you things, of course, but unless you have a burning desire to know how my uncle Rabastans bunions are going and who MacNair banged last week, it won't do you much good."

Harry threw his hands up in the air. "Great. Just _great_! At least we know how to defeat two of them; hide one's foot cream and tell the other he has Herpes!"

Draco sighed. "I can see why you're upset. Oh, that was my sarcastic voice.' He added, looking startled.

"You know, it sounds a lot like your normal voice.' Said Hermione.

"I've been told that.' Said Draco.

"The point is our entire reason for having you here has just gone down the toilet!" cried Harry.

"No, no…I think with a few days rest it will be fine…' said Draco, running his hand along his jaw.

Everyone looked at him.

Draco looked back at them. "What? You mean… you _didn't_ keep me here because I'm ridiculously good looking?"

Harry let out an annoyed cry.

"Now, let's not get too defeated here.' Said Lily, patting her son on the shoulder. 'Draco, surely you must know _something_. Your father and mother are Death Eaters! You must have overheard something in the past that may be of some use to us."

Draco shrugged. "Off the top of my head, no. Unless you want to know stock reports."

Lily raised her eyebrows. "You know, actually, James and I _did_ have some stock a few years ago in…'

She stopped as everyone looked at her.

Lily cleared her throat and sat down on the table. "No, Draco, don't be a twit.'

"You're not totally useless.' Said Tonks defensively, looking down at Draco as if taking his inability to help as a personal insult. 'Well, okay, maybe you are a _bit_ useless…"

"Ladies and gentlemen, representing the defense, Nymphadora Tonks.' Said Draco flatly, giving her a sarcastic, 'that's for that awesome help' look.

Harry tuned out as Tonks and Draco went into another of their increasingly common spats. This wasn't going at all the way he had hoped. Draco was meant to be the extra, unexpected rung in his ladder to victory. He was meant to know everything about the Dark Arts and all that came under the category, the same as Harry knew everything there was to know about Quidditch. Draco was evil; shouldn't he know everything about evil and all the evil things evil did? It was both frustrating and insulting to know this fact about Draco.

But Harry still had options.

He pursed his lips as Ron came up beside him, turning his back to Tonks and Draco's bickering. "I see that look on your face. What are you thinking?"

"How much Tonks and Malfoy remind me of you and Ginny."

Ron threw him a look.

"I'm weighing up my options.' He said softly.

"Yeah, Veritaserum or just plain interrogation.' he whispered, quirking an eyebrow.

"I don't believe him.' Said Harry, narrowing his eyes at Draco. 'He knows something, I _know_ he does."

"I know he does too, but what we have to work out is how to get what we want out of him without him knowing it and what we want it for."

Harry arched his eyebrows.

Ron sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Shut up, you know what I mean."

Harry rubbed his jaw, stubble grazing the pads of his fingertips. "Maybe I should just tell him."

"Tell him what?"

"Everything."

Ron gaped at him for a moment, before laughing. "Yeah, right! Sure! Let's tell him everything we have on Vol-… Vol-… urgh, _Voldemort_! What a great idea, mate!"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I'm detecting sarcasm from you."

"And I'm detecting insanity from _you_!' whispered Ron harshly. 'Telling Malfoy about everything is bad. Terrible! Atrocious! Crazy! Insane…"

"Yeah, keep throwing adjectives at me. They're soft and tickle like butterflies."

"The point _is_…"

"I get the point. Trust me, its poking me sharply in the forehead.' Said Harry, pointing at his scar.

Ron backed down, knowing this argument was going to go nowhere. If Harry had made up his mind, not even rational reasoning would change it – not even from his best friend. It would have been like asking the world to stop turning.

Harry left Ron where he stood and walked back over to Tonks and Draco, who had finally stopped arguing and were now engaged in what seemed to be a glaring match. Harry folded his arms over his chest.

"Malfoy,'

Draco blinked and looked up at him.

'I want to play a game with you."

"We tried that once. It ended up with you chucked from your team and me, courtesy of you, limping away from mine with a besmirched face."

Harry grit his teeth, impatient from his throbbing scar. "When I say a word, I want you to say the first thing that comes to mind."

Hermione sat up straighter, frowning. "Harry, what are you…"

"Chicken." Said Harry sharply, cutting over her again.

Draco smirked. "Chicken? Bird."

"Glass"

"Harry, what does this…' started Lily.

"Window." Said Draco, ignoring Lily like her son.

"House."

"Mansion."

"Giraffe." Said Harry, in an almost monotone.

"Animal."

"Ron."

"Ugly."

Ron fumed.

"Pencil."

"Write.' Responded Draco, almost smiling now, obviously enjoying the stupidity of it all.

"Broomstick."

"Quidditch."

"Horcrux."

"_Harry_!' cried Lily, looking at Harry like everyone else was – with astonishment.

Everyone waited for the response, but Draco didn't answer right away. His grin had fallen away completely. He sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, looking up at Harry with interest.

"Grim topic for Team Goodie-goodie.' He said solemnly. 'Why do you want to know about Horcruxes?"

"You know what they are then?' said Harry.

Draco lifted his chin a little. "Yeah, I know what they are."

Harry saw Hermione stiffen and go pink. She was glaring down at Malfoy with a fiery temper. Harry knew she was highly insulted that Draco knew what they were so easily when it had taken her ages to find out.

"Again,' said Draco, recapturing Harry's attention, 'why do you want to know about them?"

Harry didn't answer. He didn't know how. Did he really want to tell Draco everything? No, of course he didn't. He didn't want to tell him anything other than to go to hell. But maybe he would have to put his instincts aside just this once and fill him in on everything to try and get something back. Who was it that said you don't get something for nothing? Someone who obviously had not had to put up with Draco Malfoy for seven years, that's for damn sure. There was so much to tell, Harry didn't even know how to start.

But maybe he didn't have to.

Draco was looking at him intently, the wheels turning in his head as he slowly began to draw up his own conclusions. Harry just watched him, aware of his mother behind him somewhere, muttering about how he had inherited a carelessness of his father and asking herself where she went wrong. Hermione was still glaring at Draco, not in a hurry to let this notion of someone knowing something before she did go. Tonks was watching Draco as intently as he was watching Harry, obviously waiting to see what he would make of everything. Ron just had his arms folded over his chest, slowly making his way over to Hermione to try and defuse her temper.

After a long moment, Draco blinked and looked at Harry with a frown. "You think the Dark Lord has made a Horcrux, don't you." It wasn't a question.

Harry said nothing.

Draco's chest hitched a fraction with a small huff of a humorless laugh. "The Dark Lord has made a Horcrux? Oh, Potter, you _are_ stuffed, aren't you?"

"He hasn't made a Horcrux,' said Harry stiffly, 'he's made six."

"Six?' cried Draco, his face showing unconcealed amazement. '_SIX_?"

"Yes, Malfoy, six.' Said Hermione, a very obvious tone of superiority lacing every syllable.

"But…but no-one's _ever_ made six!' said Draco, looking awestruck. 'It's never been done before! Most people are hesitant to make even one, let alone…I cant… he's… _six_!' he looked around at them all. 'You all knew about this?"

"We've known for a while, actually.' Said Tonks. 'Harry was the first to find out…"

"How do you know this?' asked Draco, getting to his feet. 'This must be highly classified information! Did you have a sneak peak into the Dark Lords mind, Potter? Been dabbling in a bit of Legilimency? No, of course you haven't. The Dark Lord is a highly skilled Occlumens and you're dismal at _anything_ to do with the brain…"

"Malfoy, you're rambling.' Said Harry impatiently.

Draco sighed and fixed Harry with a stare. "So you're going to defeat the Dark Lord by finding and destroying these Horcruxes and you think that I can help you?"

'I was hoping maybe you could help us find the last two." Said Harry.

"What makes you think I can?"

"Oh, I don't know,' said Ron, coming to stand next to Harry, 'maybe because your old man had one for years!"

Draco flared up. "He most certainly did…' he paused and blinked, a thought coming to him. 'That diary? That diary he gave your little sister? _That_ was a Horcrux?'

Ron tensed up, ready to hit him if he pushed it too far.

"But you destroyed that, right?' asked Draco, pointing at Harry. 'You fixed it good and proper with a Basilisk Fang."

"How do you _know_ all this?' asked Lily.

Draco shrugged. "Hogwarts. People talk, you know. Potter's private business is everyone's business – everyone knows that."

"Do you mean to tell me you knew nothing about the diary?' asked Harry, nonplused. 'Even though you know what Horcruxes are?"

"I doubt even my father knew what it was.' Said Draco. 'If he did he certainly wouldn't have been so reckless as to give it to a Weasley."

"Ron, put your fist away.' Snapped Hermione suddenly.

Ron, who's fist had been clenched so hard at his side his knuckles had gone white, clenched his jaw tightly and, very slowly, put his fist in his pocket.

"He would have given it protection as if it were the Dark Lord himself.' Continued Draco as if nothing had happened. 'He would not put it in jeopardy. He would have protected it with his life! Well, maybe not his _life_… but he would have locked it up in our family vault at Gringotts, which is what he did. We had just come from there when we ran into you lot at Flourish and Blotts that year."

"See, I don't believe that.' Said Harry. 'I reckon he knew exactly what it was, and he wanted to use it to resurrect Voldemort."

"Then why would he have given it to the Weasley girl of _all_ people…"

"Because she was young and naïve! And her name is _Ginny_, Malfoy.' Added Harry coolly.

Draco didn't seem to hear him. He began to pace, his hands linked behind his neck as he tiled his head up toward the ceiling and took slow, deep breaths. "So _that's_ what it was."

Harry exchanged a look with Lily, who shrugged.

"That's what _what_ was, Malfoy?' asked Ron.

Draco paused his pacing and looked at them. "There's something you need to understand about the Death Eaters. They have a system of allegiance – a hierarchy, if you will. Circles of followers from the most trusted, like my father, to lackeys and ignorant try-hards that will do anything for the Dark Lord."

"Like you, eh, Malfoy?' smirked Ron.

"Decidedly not.' Snapped Draco, taking a moment to glare at Ron. 'Anyway, the inner circle, while being the awe of the outer circles, is always presented with a certain trust. With _power_. And with this power comes responsibility and privileges."

"Like looking after Horcruxes?' asked Tonks.

"All members of the Inner Circle are given one specific task, just one, all of them different. For some, it is too handle money, for others it is to take responsibility of the lower ranked Death Eaters. All are different and all are considered a great honor to be given. My father was one of the Inner circle, and obviously his job was, _unknowingly_, Potter, to look after this Horcrux."

"What about the other members?' asked Harry. 'What were their jobs?"

"Each Death Eater's assignment was exclusive, knowledge meant for only them. No other Death Eater but the Dark Lord himself knew of my fathers 'job', as it was with all others with their own individual assignments.' Said Draco.

"Did your mother know?' asked Hermione.

"My mother knew he was keeping something, but she didn't know what.'

"And he told you too?"

"Of course he didn't.' said Draco. 'He wouldn't tell me anything about it. No, I overheard them one night in the drawing room when I was meant to be up in my room. They were having a nightcap and Father was discussing it."

"Do you eavesdrop on everything?' asked Tonks.

Draco shrugged elegantly. "Saves time."

"This doesn't help us at all, though.' Said Ron. 'If the Death Eaters don't tell any of the other Death Eaters about what their job is, how would Mr. Ear-to-keyhole here know anything about it?"

"Just because _they_ didn't talk about it with each other, doesn't mean _we_ didn't.' said Draco.

"'We'?' asked Harry. 'Who's '_we'_?"

"Me, Blaise, Teddy…"

"Who the hell is 'Teddy'?" asked Ron, confused.

Tonks sighed. "Theadore Nott."

Everyone looked at Draco in stunned silence.

Draco shifted uncomfortably under their stairs. "What?"

"You call him '_Teddy'_?' laughed Hermione. 'What do they call you? '_Drakie'_?"

Harry and Ron roared with laughter.

Draco glared, his cheeks flushing pink with rage. "Potter, I am divulging intimate secrets of the Death Eater hierarchy to their sworn enemy, for which, if they ever find me, the punishment is death! Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"If they ever find you they'll kill you anyway.' Chuckled Harry, slowly sobering up. 'Besides, _everything_ is punishable by death for them – it's why they're called 'Death Eaters'."

Lily hit Ron and Harry across the back of the heads. They stopped for a moment and looked at Hermione, who was hiding a smile behind her hand. They paused for a moment, before snorting and dissolving into giggles again.

She rolled her eyes at them. "Please continue, Draco. You were saying, about the other boys?"

Draco glared at the Trio for a moment, before puffing out his chest importantly once more. "As I was _saying_… each of us knew our own parents assignments. It was only natural we bragged about it to one another."

"So that's all you guys would do in your dorms?' asked Harry. 'Talk about your parents?"

"No, we also killed kittens… knitted a little… made pamphlets for bake sales… plotted for global domination…' he paused and gave Harry a look. 'Listen, Potter, I don't know what kind of strange sexual escapades you Gryffindors are into but we weren't quite so vulgar. What do you _think_ we did, you twit?"

Harry blushed.

"Did any of them mention Horcruxes?' asked Hermione, getting them back on track.

"No, they didn't.' said Draco. 'But, like me, if their parents did have one in their possession chances are they didn't know about it."

Harry threw his hands up in the hair. "So we're back to square one."

Draco smirked. "Not that I don't enjoy seeing you distressed, Potter… but I didn't say I couldn't help."

Harry rounded on him. "But you just said…"

"I might know someone who can help us."

"But?"

Draco got to his feet. "But if you're going, then I'm going with you."

"_What_?' cried Ron.

"No!' said Hermione.

"Absolutely not.' Said Harry determinedly. 'If I'm going anywhere with anyone, it'll be Ron and Hermione, or Remus or anyone that isn't _you_."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You think I _want_ to go out into public with you and your shameful hair because I enjoy your company and the way I look beside you? You're going to meet with someone who absolutely hates your guts! Someone who wouldn't even urinate on you if you were on fire!"

"Well, then, he must be a good friend of yours.' Snapped Harry, heading for the stairs.

But he didn't take two steps before Draco jumped in front of him, blocking his path.

"Potter, think about this. I can _help_ you. That's the whole reason I'm here, isn't it? I can't do anything locked up in this house. If you're going, I can help ease the transition, and save you from getting cursed on their doorstep before you've even taken a step over the threshold."

Harry glared at him.

"Besides,' smirked Draco arrogantly, 'you don't even know how to get there. And I won't be telling you unless I can come with you as well."

"Or I could just beat it out of you."

"You could, but why do that when I'm quite willing to tell you on one condition?' reasoned Draco smoothly.

Harry clenched his jaw. He really, really, _really_ didn't want to take Draco with him. But he seemed to actually want to help, and he was right about the 'smoothing the transition'. Harry was almost bouncing with adrenaline. He could have another Horcrux soon, possibly within a few hours! And here he was, wasting time with Draco?

He sighed. "Fine, Malfoy, I give you permission to come with me and Ron and Hermione."

"No, not them.' Said Draco, giving Ron and Hermione a casual wave. 'They're not coming."

"The hell they aren't.' growled Harry, taking a threatening step toward him.

"We are not staying here!' cried Hermione. 'We go looking for these Horcruxes together!"

"Admirable.' Said Draco in a bored tone. 'It will be hard enough to get Potter in the door, let alone you two minions tagging along. You're loud and bumbling and will attract far too much attention. Besides,' he added, giving Hermione and Ron a look of distaste, 'I don't like you, and I do not want to show up with a Mudblood on my arm, especially _you_, Granger."

No-one could stop him. Ron launched himself forward and grabbed Draco roughly by the front of his shirt. He shook him, his face red with rage. "_WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT CALLING HER THAT_?' he roared.

"Ron, let him go!' cried Hermione, rushing over. She grabbed Ron's forearms from behind and tried to pull him away, but it was useless. Ron was filled with adrenaline and anger and had Draco in a strong grip.

Tonks and Lily were on their feet instantly. Harry, however, just stood there watching, arms folded over his chest.

"Ron, stop it.' said Lily firmly, making her way over quickly. 'Let go of him. _Now_!"

Ron glared at Draco, wanting so badly to hit him in the face. Draco just stared back, almost lazily, waiting patiently for Ron to release him. The careless expression on his face only made Ron more angry, and the impulse to hurt him was becoming harder and harder to suppress.

But slowly, he began to calm. He became more aware of Hermione's arms around him, her hands on his forearms, stroking them in a soothing manner. And, after a long moment, he shoved Draco away harshly.

"You're not even worth it.' Snapped Ron, letting Hermione lead him back to the table.

"Thank you, Ron.' Said Lily, giving Ron a small smile. 'That was very mature of you."

"Not like he would have done it anyway.' Smirked Draco, adjusting his shirt. 'Weasley's are all talk."

"And _you_,' snapped Lily, whirling around on Draco, 'if I hear you say the word 'Mudblood' one more time I will curse you so hard the only think you will vaguely resemble is a masticated Flubberworm. Do you understand me?"

Draco's eyes widened. He looked over at Tonks for back up, but she simply arched her eyebrows expectantly, waiting to hear his answer. He clenched his jaw and glared back at Lily.

Lily nodded. "I thought so. Now, you, Harry, Ron, Hermione and me can…"

"And you as well?' said Draco. 'My terms are clear, woman! Potter and I, no-one else! The more people there are, the more complicated it gets and the more we are slowed down. We're only going to visit someone, not embarking on a crusade around the world! We'll be back in an hour at the most."

"If you think for one minute…"

"Alright."

Lily fell silent as Harry's soft voice cut through hers. She looked around at him. "Alright, what?"

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at Draco. "Alright, you and I can go – just the two of us."

Silence.

Everyone but Draco and Tonks was looking at him as if he had gone mad. Hermione was trying to say something, but could not form the words. Lily, whose hand had been in front of Draco's chest ready to pat him on the shoulder was frozen in place, her lips pursed and her brows knotted together in a frown. Ron, who had been gaping at him in uninhibited disgust, was the first to break the silence with a laugh.

He strode over and grabbed Harry by the upper arm. "Can we talk to you for a minute? Over here? _Please_?"

Harry didn't even get to argue as Ron dragged him around to the other side of the room, Hermione and Lily in tow.

Tonks sighed and sat down at the table again as the four of them congregated in a huddle, arguing in soft harsh whispers. She ran a hand through her hair and looked hopelessly up at her cousin.

Draco, who had been watching the others, looked around at her when he felt eyes on him. He frowned and shifted under her gaze. "What?"

"Why must you make things so difficult?' she asked.

"I'm a Malfoy, it's my job.' He said simply.

"Why can't you just let Hermione and Ron go with you?"

"Because I don't like them, I thought I made that perfectly clear."

"And you like Harry? That's why you want to go with him alone?"

Draco sighed. "I would prefer to take you with me to get it, but Potter's a stubborn arse and wants to do everything himself. Anything to do with bringing around the Dark Lords demise he will want to be a part of, and I do not have the energy to be fighting about it with him. It's simpler to take him and him alone, end of story. It has nothing to do with _liking_ the git."

Tonks sat up a little straighter. "You'd rather take me?"

Draco looked at her. "Did you even hear anything else I just said?"

Ron looked away from Draco and Tonks and tuned back into the conversation they were having.

'…absolutely insanity, going _anywhere_ with him alone!' hissed Hermione at Harry. 'You of all people should know that!"

"You think I don't?' said Harry softly. 'You think I _want_ to leave you guys behind? I would rather do this with you than Malfoy any day of the week! But if he's telling the truth, and he knows someone who could give us a lead, then this could be a huge step forward for us. We haven't found anything on any sort of whereabouts of any more Horcruxes since the Pensieve in London, and that was months ago! We're running out of time, Hermione, and we're wasting more of it standing here arguing about it."

"The possibility of finding another Horcrux does not mean you should go running into this without considering all the options.' Said Lily.

"What are my options then?' asked Harry. 'He's not going to tell me anything unless I take him with me."

"I like your idea of beating it out of him, personally.' Said Ron.

"There will be no beating of anyone for anything.' Snapped Lily irritably. 'Harry, Draco is the son of one of the most highly respected Death Eaters. He just admitted it! And you want to go somewhere you've never been, to see someone you don't even know, _alone_ with him?"

Harry sighed. "He hasn't got any magic. He's not gonna hurt me."

"Just because he hasn't got magic doesn't mean he can't hurt you.' Said Ron.

"He made a Vow not to hurt me.' he said. 'He'd die if he did!"

"Yeah, _he_ would. How do you know he's not setting you up? How do you know he hasn't planned some sort of ambush for you?' asked Ron. 'This could have been his plan all along! To get into our circle, to get some sort of trust and lure you away from us… and then wham! They attack you and capture you – or worse!"

"Why would he have made the Vow with me if that's what he wanted?' asked Harry.

"To make it more convincing, maybe?' said Hermione. 'To lull you into a false sense of security. To make you as careless as you're being right now!"

Harry ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. "I don't believe this! Last year I was coming up with all these reasons and explanations for him doing shifty stuff and none of you would believe me, and now here you all are doing the same exact thing!"

"That's because it turned out you were right, didn't it?' said Hermione.

"Yes, it did. So why can't you trust me now?"

"We didn't think he was capable of doing what you suspected last time, but he actually was. We all know now what he can do and we don't want you to end up…" she trailed off awkwardly, blushing.

"End up like Dumbledore?' Finished Harry.

"No, we don't want you to end up like that.' Said Lily softly. She grabbed him by the shoulders and looked straight up into his eyes, so like her own. '_I_ don't want you to end up like that. And I don't want you going anywhere alone with him."

Harry squirmed out of her hold. "Mum, I can handle myself – especially around him."

Lily sighed impatiently. "This isn't a pride thing, Harry. None of us have any doubt of how well you can take care of yourself; of how powerful you are. But you need to keep in mind that you're still only seventeen, and can not take on an entire ambush of adult Death Eater's by yourself."

"I took on their leader by myself,' said Harry, 'look what happened to him."

"Only because of me.' growled Lily. 'Do _not_ go getting delusions of grandeur about yourself, my son."

Harry blinked, feeling himself be shoved violently back into place. They didn't normally discuss all that had happened between them, and Harry knew that she wouldn't have brought it up if she weren't desperate for him not to do what he was about to.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Ron cleared his throat. "Look, mate, we're just trying to look out for you, is all. Malfoy's bad news, you know that. You're practically President of the 'Down with Malfoy' party, and now you're telling us you trust him to just help us?"

"_Trust_ him?' laughed Harry. 'Ron, I trust Malfoy as far as I can throw him!"

"Then why are you being so blasé about all this?' asked Hermione.

Harry shrugged. "Tonks trusts him."

"And you trust her again?' asked Hermione, surprised.

"I don't trust anyone anymore.' Said Harry. 'All I want to do is get this Horcrux."

"But is this really the way to go about it?' asked Lily.

"So far it's the only way to go about it. Oi, Malfoy!'

Harry left the group and made his way back around the table to Draco.

Draco arched an eyebrow. "_'Oi'_, Potter?"

"Just shut up and listen.' Snapped Harry. 'You've got your terms? Well, I'm compromising them. I'll go with you to this place, just me. Ron and Hermione will stay here."

"And your Mother."

"Yeah, and her too."

"I beg your pardon!' cried Lily angrily. 'I most certainly will _not_…"

"Mum, just hang on a second and let me finish!' cut Harry, giving her a look. He turned back to Draco. 'I'll go with you, alone, no-one else… but you have to leave the apparition co-ordinates of the place here with them. Because if we're not back in an hour like you said, they're coming to get us."

"I can't be giving out the co-ordinates to other people!' said Draco, scandalized. 'I promised I wouldn't tell anyone! Especially not _you_ people!"

"Then we don't go, end of story.' Said Harry, his tone final.

Draco clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists at his side. Harry was surprised at his reaction. It wasn't like Draco to sulk because he was missing out on helping. Normally he longed for the exclusion and the words 'bugger off and leave us alone'. He actually seemed _disappointed_; genuinely upset that he may not be able to help this time. It made Harry's suspicion of where they were going grow. Where was it they were headed that made Draco want to be so eager and helpful? Who was it that Draco seemed so desperate to see? Everyone was silent, waiting to hear what Draco would say.

Finally, after a long moment, Draco gave Harry one last glare, marched past him and snatched up the nearest quill and piece of parchment.

"This is a one-time favor, Potter.' Snapped Draco, writing down co-ordinates. 'I want these figures burnt the _instant_ we return."

He finished writing with a hard full-stop, threw the quill down and held the parchment out for Tonks to take. Obviously he didn't trust anyone else with it. But Tonks had only just unfolded her arm when Ron barged forward and snatched the parchment out of his hand.

He held it up and examined it. "How do we know this is really where you're going? You could have just made it up!"

"If you land on top of a whale in the Atlantic Ocean, then you'll know, wont you, Weasley?' smirked Draco.

Ron scowled.

"Come on, Malfoy,' said Harry, 'lets just get this over with."

"Harry,'

Harry stopped as someone caught his arm. He turned around and looked down at his mother. She suddenly looked very tired, as if she could go a few years sleep.

She opened her mouth and tried to say something a few times, before finally, "I know I don't have to tell you to be careful and watch your back and don't let Draco out of your sight for a single second and that if you get into _any_ sort of trouble you just apparate straight home instantly and don't think about trying to play the hero…"

"Mum,' said Harry kindly, 'I'll be fine. Don't worry so much."

"You're my son; it's my job to worry.' Said Lily. She smiled, took his face in her hands and pulled him down, planting a soft kiss on his prickling scar. 'Be careful, for the love of God."

Harry smiled and turned to head up to get his cloak, but instead he ran into Ron and Hermione.

"I don't like this.' Said Ron simply.

"Neither do I.' said Harry.

Hermione folded her arms over her chest. "And just what do you suppose we're to do while you're off, gallivanting all over creation with Malfoy?"

Harry shrugged. "Make me dinner?"

Ron laughed. Hermione hit him.

"I don't know!' laughed Harry, rubbing his arm. 'Try working out what the last Horcrux is. Do the research you're so good at doing.'

"I'd rather come with you.' She said.

"I'd rather you come with me too.' Said Harry, giving her a small smile.

"Potter?"

Harry looked around at Draco. Tonks was handing him a cloak that, like the rest of what he was wearing, no doubt once belonged to Remus.

"Are we going or not?' asked Draco impatiently.

"Yeah, we're going! Hold your horses!" said Harry. He gave Hermione and Ron one last smile, before heading toward the stairs.

Tonks grabbed Draco's arm as he went to follow Harry up the stairs. "Don't be an idiot."

"Is that the only advice you have for me?"

"Um… don't eat yellow snow?"

Draco pursed his lips, the corner of his mouth twitching. He put the cloak around his shoulders, gave her a curt nod and headed up the stairs.

But Ron caught him just as he planted one foot on the first step.

Draco looked down at his arm where Ron was gripping him, and the back up at his face. "Something else you wanted to discuss, Weasley?"

Ron leant in so close their noses almost touched, his blue eyes blazing. "If you hurt one hair on his head, _one single hair_…"

"Yes, yes, 'bloody torture', 'guts ripped out', 'six feet under'… I know the drill, Weasley. Save your threats, your beloved Potter will be fine."

"He'd better be." Growled Ron.

"He _will_ be.' Insisted Draco.

Draco made to move again, but Ron still had a hold of him. Impatiently, Draco looked back at Ron, who wasn't glaring at him anymore but instead looking at him with an expression he'd never given him before: curiosity.

"What is it _now_, Weasley?"

"Why are you helping us?' asked Ron. 'Why are you helping him when you hate him so much?"

"Because I'm bored.' Said Draco flatly.

Ron didn't release him.

Draco sighed and stepped back down off the step. "Listen, Weasley, because this is embarrassing and degrading and I'm only going to tell you it once…' he said softly, so only Ron could hear, 'I don't like you, okay? I don't like any of you. And I especially don't like Potter. But even more than I hate you, I hate the Dark Lord.'

Ron blinked, surprised.

"Yes, Weasley, I hate him. I hate him so much I sometimes feel as though _that's_ what's running through my veins, not blood, telling me to keep going in the hope that some day I can confront him and pay him back in full for all he's done to me and my family.' He said, his voice so soft and deadly it sent shivers up Ron's spine. 'He's the reason my Fathers in jail. He's the reason my Mother's an emotional wreck. He's the reason I'm on the run from the Ministry and have no life. He's destroyed my family. He's destroyed my _world_. And I hate him for that. So yes, I'm going to help you lot out, and I'm going to help Potter find these Horcruxes, and I'm going to help him destroy them one-by-one, because if they exist then all this is for nothing. Potter's the 'Chosen one'. The one who's meant to defeat Him. To _kill_ Him. Some people think he won't, but he's Potter – I _know_ he will… and I want to be there when I happens."

Draco ripped his arm from Ron's grip. "This isn't about the Mud-… the '_Muggleborns'_ and their rights. This isn't about saving lives or ending oppression – this is about _revenge_. Cold, determined, biased, undeterrable, all-consuming revenge. Do you have a problem with that?"

Ron shook his head. "No."

Draco gave him a cold smirk and, without another word, went up the stairs after Harry, leaving Ron standing at the bottom of the staircase at a loss for words.

Harry was standing by the door when Draco finally caught up. He looked as impatient as Draco felt – another emotion they had in common. How disgusting.

"Give me your wand, Potter."

Harry looked around at him. "Oh, sure. Want my spellbooks too?"

"I'm being serious."

"Well, I'm not. No way am I giving you my wand."

"Oh, so you took your Apparation Test, then?' asked Draco, linking his hands behind his back. 'You know how to apparate successfully somewhere by knowing the co-ordinates alone without splinching yourself? And you know how to do it with someone attached to you?"

Harry pursed his lips.

Draco arched an eyebrow and held his hand out.

Harry glared, pulled his wand out of his back pocket and very warily placed it in Draco's hand. "I hate this."

"Yes, well, you can disinfect it later.' Said Draco, taking position. 'I plan on doing so with my hand as soon as we return."

"Whatever, Malfoy, lets just go.' Said Harry.

But Draco didn't move. He just looked at Harry.

Harry frowned. "What? What are you waiting for?"

Draco held his hand out with a smirk. "You have to hold my hand."

Harry cringed and, reluctantly, took Draco's hand, gripping it tightly.

"Don't be a girl, Potter. Holding your hand isn't exactly the highlight of _my_ day either."

"I hate you _so much_ right now."

------------------

As it turned out they weren't going to a house at all.

"You call _that_ a shack in the middle of nowhere?' cried Harry, waving a hand.

Draco looked up at the mansion and tilted his head. "Its decrepit and tacky, only four wings. Malfoy Manor has _eight_ wings, and twenty bedrooms, ten bathrooms, a ballroom…"

"Gee, is that all?' said Harry sarcastically. He shook his head and looked back up at the mansion. 'Normally people exaggerate, not…not… well, whatever the opposite of 'exaggerate' is."

"Don't be jealous, Potter.' Sighed Draco. 'Just because you lived in a cupboard for ten years and had spiders living in your hair…"

"Malfoy, this is not a conversation I want to be having with you, especially when we're crouched behind a Devil's Snare bush."

When they had apparated out, Harry had been expecting to be carried off to some far away country in the middle of nowhere to some dingy old shack that was almost falling apart, inhabited by an old witch with a crystal ball and a long nose and a wart and crazy hair to ask their fortunes, and for her to say stuff like 'your task is a terrifying one' or 'great danger awaits you' or 'that'll be ten pounds, Madam Heccuba thanks you and hopes you come back soon'; certainly not a luxurious Mansion on the top of a hill, over looking a small country town. It was three stories high and made from a lovely marble with lush gardens surrounded by tall, iron gates, all covered with a fresh layer of snow – a very unlikely place to keep anything remotely top secret, in Harry's opinion.

As soon as they had arrived, Draco had grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him down behind this bush. They had been crouching there for almost five minutes now, and Harry was starting to loose feeling in his legs.

Draco was peering over the top of the bush, looking up at the Mansion. "Don't be a wuss, Potter. Its daylight; its completely harmless."

Harry moved back a little anyway. He sighed and looked up at the Mansion, wrapping his cloak around him tighter against the cold. "So the person we're going to see lives here?"

"Yes."

"And are we actually going to go inside? Or are we going to crouch out here all day? Remember, we only have an hour."

"I'm well aware of the time.' Said Draco, his eyes examining the fence in front of them.

"Well then? What are we waiting for? It's freezing out here!'

Draco said nothing. Instead, he reached underneath the bush and pulled out a rock. Without any explanation, he raised his arm and threw it at the fence. The rock didn't go through the bars, but instead slammed right into an invisible barrier that flashed blue and blew the rock into smithereens, sending rubble everywhere.

Harry looked at it in horror.

"_That's_ why we haven't gone in yet.' Said Draco. 'Not that 'Barbequed Potter' wouldn't be entertaining on the front page of the _Prophet_, but I highly doubt you'll defeat the Dark Lord in a cooking contest."

"You're _hilarious_, Malfoy.' Snapped Harry. 'Ever thought of stand-up comedy?"

"No, I prefer to sit."

Harry rolled his eyes. "So how are we going to get in? We should have brought brooms."

"I know how to take the wards down.' Said Draco softly. 'I just…can't remember at the moment."

"Well that's a lot of help, isn't it!"

"I can remember _most_ of it!' retorted Draco angrily. 'If you'll just stop yabbering in my ear and give me a minute…"

Harry shook his head irritably as Draco trailed off, muttering to himself as he tried to remember the incantation. It was pretty smart to put wards around your house, now that Harry thought about it. Just like Hogwarts, it saved you from people apparating in without invitation. It was good security, like deadlocks for Muggles, as was the Devil's Snare planted all around the outer fences. No doubt it kept away a lot of unwanted late night visitors.

"Ah!' cried Draco suddenly, leaping to his feet.

"What? You remember?' asked Harry, falling backwards into the snow. He rolled over and got to his feet quickly, rushing over to join Draco at the massive gates.

Draco was staring at the latch that held the two gates together. He held his hand out for Harry's wand, and without thinking Harry handed it to him. Draco pointed it at the latch and hesitated, before muttering an incantation. The area around the latch glowed a pale red for a moment, and then vanished.

Draco looked at Harry. "Go on, then."

"What?"

"Open the gate."

"Wha-… did you do it right?!"

"Of course I did. But this is your crusade, you go first."

"No! You go first! I don't trust you!"

Draco rolled his eyes. He thrust Harry's wand back into his hands, reached through the gap in the bars and undid the latch, letting the gates swing open with a squeak.

Harry just watched in silence.

"And to think that you doubted me.' smirked Draco, passing through the gate.

"Stupid, smarmy git.' Muttered Harry, following him up the path.

"What's that, Potter?"

"Nothing."

"You really shouldn't mumble, you know. I can't understand a word you're saying."

The two boys made their way up the path together, Draco leading by only inches. He was walking at a rather brisk, confident pace, as if he couldn't wait to get to the door. Harry was trying to keep up and at the same time approach with caution. The gardens around them were too exposed for his liking. What if someone saw them? Maybe it was a good idea that they hurried.

Harry fell into step beside Draco. "So how do you know this guy anyway? An old maiming buddy of your Dad's?"

"Oh please,' said Draco, rolling his eyes as he adjusted his shirt, 'maiming is _so_ last month."

"Really? What's 'in' for this month?"

"Chains, whips, shackles… you know, vintage."

Harry didn't know if he was joking or not. He didn't want to ask.

He opened his mouth to ask Draco another of the many questions burning inside him, but stopped short as he realized what Draco was going. "Malfoy?"

"Potter?"

"Are you _preening_ yourself?"

"_What_?' said Draco, looking at Harry in appalled shock. 'I most certainly am not!"

"You must certainly am are!"

"Don't be absurd."

"I just saw you! You were styling your hair!"

Draco lifted his chin and smoothed his shirt out over his chest. "Maybe I was. You might like to try the same thing now and again."

Harry quirked an eyebrow.

"Potter, this is going to be the first person I've seen outside the Order of the Phoenix since June last year. Forgive me if I want to make a good impression. Now shut up and get behind that bush there."

"What? What for?' demanded Harry, eyeing the bush Draco was pointing at a few feet away from the front door. 'Where are _you_ going?"

"To ring the doorbell."

"Why do _I_ have to hide?"

"So that she won't slam the door in my face."

Harry blinked. "_'She'_? But, I thought…"

But Harry didn't get to finish. Draco shoved him behind the bush and walked up to the front door. He stood before the large wooden door and hesitated, running a final hand through his blonde hair.

"Malfoy!' hissed Harry, trying to get his attention. '_Malfoy_!"

Draco ignored him. He took one final look around and pressed the button beside the door, causing chimes to ring throughout the house.

Moments passed and no-one answered the door.

Draco frowned and looked upward. He craned his neck, trying to see anything, before he pressed the doorbell again and waited.

Nothing.

"Maybe no-one's home.' Said Harry.

Draco ignored him.

Harry sighed and was about to come out from behind the bush when the sound of locks being unlocked from behind the door was heard. Harry slipped back into his hiding place and peered around the edge of the bush, eager to see who lived here; to see who it was that was going to help him. Again, he expected to see some old witch with a hump on her back and shawls around her, or maybe a butler dressed top to tail in a suit and tie with a tray in one hand and grey, slicked-back hair, or maybe a tall, regal man like Draco's own father, with a long nose and a superior, snobbish look. But when the door was pulled inward and revealed the house's occupant, Harry saw that it was in fact none of these people.

It was Pansy Parkinson.

* * *

A/N – Cliffhanger! Oh, how I love them. Did we all have a good holiday season? This is my New Years treat to you all. I hope you enjoyed it!

Please Review!


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38!

* * *

It took a lot to make Pansy Parkinson speechless.

She always had something to say. She always had a comeback. She always had a comment. _Always_. It was a very rare moment when she would find herself incapable of expressing her opinion. It had happened in the past, of course. Like when she was seven and had received a common pony when she had wanted a Unicorn foal for Christmas, or when she was eleven and discovered that she was going to be in the same year as Harry Potter who she knew only by name (before she knew him to be a fat-headed git), or when she had come home early from the pub just the other night to find her parents snogging intensely in the library – everyday she went without remembering witnessing that was a day she cherished.

It was another historical event to take into account that when she came downstairs from doing her make-up to answer the door to Draco Malfoy, she found herself with absolutely nothing to say.

The fact that she was still holding onto the door handle was the only reason she was still standing. She felt weak in the knees as he smirked at her in that infuriatingly attractive way – even if he did look like some sort of homeless pauper. He was dressed in blue denim jeans, a beige jumper and a cream raincoat. His hair was falling into his grey eyes with a practiced ease. He looked, disturbingly, like a muggle; but in that split second in which she took all this in it didn't matter. He was there, on her doorstep, alive, and she had never been so happy to see anyone in her entire life.

After a very long silence in which Pansy just stared at him, slack-jawed and shocked, Draco thought perhaps he should be the one to speak first.

He put his hands in his pockets and smirked at her. "Hello, Pans."

The sound of her name jolted her out of her stupor. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a broad, excited grin. "_DRACO_!"

Draco grunted and stumbled as she literally threw herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist "_Shh_!' he hissed, looking around cautiously.

"_Draco_!' she whispered, just as enthusiastically. She squeezed him tighter and ran her hands over his back. "Oh, Draco…'

"Well, I don't suppose I was really using those ribs anyway…' he grunted, swearing one of his ribs had just cracked.

"Is it really you?' she whispered desperately.

"No-one can replicate this kind of beauty.' Said Draco, smirking.

Pansy sighed happily and squeezed him again tightly. "Oh Draco… I have missed you _so_ much… I've heard the most horrendous stories… all the rumors that went around Hogwarts that night Dumbledore was killed…that you're on the run from the Ministry…"

Draco's smirk fell, his grip on her tightening fractionally.

"Hang on,' said Pansy suddenly, hopping down off him and giving him a skeptical look. 'Why _are_ you here if you're on the run from the Ministry _and_ the Death Eaters?"

"Who said I was on the run?"

"Everybody."

"And you believe them?"

Pansy just looked at him, hands on her hips.

"Do I need a reason to see you?' asked Draco with a smirk, closing the distance between them. 'Maybe I just missed you…"

"Don't patronize me, Draco Malfoy!' snapped Pansy, shoving Draco away harshly.

Draco let out a short half laugh, half grunt and rubbed his chest where she had pushed him. "Oh, come on now, Pans, don't be like that."

"I'll be however I want.' Huffed Pansy. 'Six months and no owl? Do you have any idea how worried I've been about you? You just left without a single word! Didn't even bother to write me a note! _Anything_ could have happened to you and I wouldn't have known about it! You could be lying a ditch somewhere! You could have been dead, or worse – you could have been forced to become a _muggle_!"

"You have no idea how accurate you are.' He muttered.

"I should slam the door in your face right now!' she snapped, grabbing the door, ready.

"Now, you wouldn't really want to do that, would you?' he asked smoothly, taking a step toward her again. 'Lock a poor, good-looking man like myself out in the cold?"

Pansy straightened up as he came into very close contact with her, his body only centimeters away from her. "I know you, Draco. If you really are on the run from both sides then you haven't come here for a social visit – you want something."

Draco smirked, dipping his head to look at her. "Do I?"

"Yes, you most certainly do! And…' she paused and sighed, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at his gorgeous smile, '…and just…just don't go thinking that you can get me to help you by looking at me like… like _that_…because its not going to work!"

"I thought you liked me looking at you like that.' He grinned, leaning in as if to kiss her, but stopping just before their lips touched.

Pansy took in slow, deep breaths. "Draco… in all seriousness… why are you here? Surely it's far too dangerous for you to be out where people can see you, especially if both sides are after your blood."

Draco pursed his lips and took a step back, his expression one of business and seriousness. "Are your parents home?"

"No, Daddy was called out to the Ministry and mother is out of town visiting family."

Draco considered her for a long moment. "Look, I don't have much time. May I come in?"

Pansy folded her arms over her chest. "You _do_ want something."

"Yes, I do."

"And its not what I think it is, is it?"

"No, sadly, its not."

"And you expect me to just let you into my home? You expect me to just help you?' she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

The corner of Draco's mouth slowly curled upward and he wriggled his blonde eyebrows suggestively.

Pansy pursed her lips, considering him. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"It's me.' he said simply.

"Like that means anything anymore."

Draco reached out and leant up against the doorway, supporting his weight on one leg impatiently as if _she_ were wasting _his_ time, as if she were the one inconveniencing him. "I'm actually trying to be considerate here, Pans. I'm giving you the option of letting me in willingly. You have something I want, something I need, and I wont be leaving here without it – whether you want to help me or not."

Pansy looked him up and down critically, her lip curled into the tiniest resentful sneer. "If I help you, am I going to get into trouble?"

"Only if you open your big fat mouth to your parents and tell them we were here.' Said Draco.

Pansy frowned. "_'We'_?"

Draco stiffened, realizing his mistake. He'd been so close to getting an invite into her house. Not that he really needed one, he could have simply shoved her out of the way the second she had opened the door, or gotten Harry to stun her…but that wasn't a polite way to treat her. If there was one thing his mother had taught him, it was how to be polite to a lady. Besides, Pansy was his friend – he didn't treat his friends like that.

But how was he going to get her to let them in now?

"'Me', I meant '_me'_' he stuttered, trying to save the situation, '…as in '_I'_…because I do not talk in the third person like that absurd red puppet on that ridiculous Sesame Road feletision program… Snuffleupagus _indeed_…'

"Draco!' snapped Pansy, 'what is going on? Tell me this instant or I swear I'll curse you."

Draco clenched his jaw, trying to find the words to explain why he was there, but was drawing a blank. Surely she would think of him as mad. It was bad enough showing up on her doorstep dressed the way he was, without a wand, let alone announcing who he was with. The seconds rolled by, and Pansy grew more and more impatient as each moment passed. He wasn't normally so inarticulate. Curse Tonks, this had to be her fault… somehow it was…

"Its me.' said the shrubbery behind him.

Pansy had her wand out in an instant, and Draco turned slowly around with a grimace just in time to see Harry step out from behind the bush, white snowflakes in stark contrast against his pitch black hair and his wand gripped equally tight in his hand.

"_You_!' cried Pansy, shoving Draco aside. She slammed the door shut behind her with raw magic and pointed her wand at Harry's chest, putting herself between him and Draco protectively. 'What the hell are you doing here, Potter? How did you even _get_ here? Draco, he's followed you here!"

Harry looked disgusted. He looked at Draco over her shoulder; Draco simply rolled his eyes, a look that said 'she's beyond my control'. "As if I would follow _him_ anywhere, you stupid bint!"

"Potter get off my estate before I blast you from here to high heaven!' screeched Pansy. 'Draco, run for it! I'll hold him off."

Harry raised his wand only marginally and looked at Draco again, expecting him to do something about this.

Draco shrugged. "What? I want her to blast you."

"Don't think I won't." Growled Pansy.

"_Malfoy_!" snapped Harry impatiently.

"Draco, what are you waiting for?' said Pansy irritably over her shoulder. 'Go! Before he sends for his precious Order to come take you away!"

Draco, seeing the furious expression on Harry's face, rolled his eyes with a sigh. He put his hand on Pansy's shoulder, ran his hand down her arm to her own hand and, very softly, plucked the wand from her hand.

Pansy looked around at him, scandalized. "Draco, what are you…"

"I'm sorry, Pansy. As much as I want you to…I can't let you curse him.' Said Draco, looking appalled with himself.

"Why in Merlin's name not?" demanded Pansy as Harry lowered his wand.

"Because he's…' he paused and grimaced, as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. '…he's with me."

Pansy's mouth dropped open as wide as her eyes.

Harry was finding it very hard not to be offended. Surely he wasn't that bad company. But, then again, he knew he felt disgusted taking credit for Draco being anywhere near him – it must have been the same basic principle for them.

Draco folded his arms over his chest. "I know – tragic, isn't it?"

"I…you…I don't…' she stuttered, once again at a lost for words. She looked around at Harry, gave him a look of distaste, and then looked back around at the blonde in front of her. 'Draco, are you… are you _working_ with him?"

"Working? Merlin's beard, no!' laughed Draco, putting an arm around her shoulders and turning her stiff posture around to face Harry. 'I'd prefer to call it… 'Temporarily associating'. See, Potter here, the poor dear, can't bear to let me out of his sight for more than a minute! It's pitiful, really, the way he worships me… following me around the house, stealing underwear from my drawers…"

"Malfoy!' snapped Harry. 'Belt up, will you?"

Draco just smirked at him.

"If you think for one minute, Draco Malfoy, that I am letting Potter into my house…"

"If he doesn't go in, I don't go in.' said Draco.

"That sounds fair enough.' Snapped Pansy, shrugging Draco's arm harshly from her shoulders. 'Of all the cunning tricks! You think I'd let him into my home just because he's with you?"

"You don't really need to let us in, you know.' Snarled Harry, loosely jiggling his wand threateningly in his hand.

Pansy stiffened, eyeing him cautiously.

"Put that away, you git.' Snapped Draco, shoving him. Ignoring Harry's muttered profanities behind him, he turned to Pansy, his scowl at Harry's rudeness melting instantly. 'Pansy, please."

Pansy shook her head. "No, Draco! I can't! If father knew I'd let Harry Potter into our house…"

"We'll be gone before he gets home.' Said Draco quickly. 'Please, Pansy. _Please_."

The Slytherin girl surveyed the two boys in front of her. It was the most bizarre sight she had even seen; Draco Malfoy, dressed as a Muggle, standing beside Harry Potter, ready to work along side him willingly. Had the world gone completely mad?

She narrowed her eyes at Harry. "I don't trust you."

"Big surprise there.' Muttered Harry.

"And I don't trust _you_.' She added, giving Draco a glare.

"And that's different from the past seventeen years of our relationship exactly how?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Pansy pursed her lips, the corners of her mouth twitching.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, are you going to let us in or not?"

"Well I was, until you snapped at me.' she retorted.

Draco smacked Harry in the side of the face with the back of his hand and held his arm out for Pansy to take. "Don't mind him; he's uneducated."

Pansy linked her arm through Draco's and threw Harry a look of distaste of her shoulders. "So I see. Did he _consciously_ decide to wear those boots with those trousers?"

"One can only hope not.' Said Draco. He smirked and walked into the house with Pansy, but not before calling, 'Heel, puppy."

Harry fixed his glasses and glared at them both, marching over the threshold behind them.

-------------------

_Bang_.

"I'm sure he'll be fine.' Said Lily soothingly. 'Harry's a good judge of character."

"No he is not!' said Hermione, turning the page of her book with enough force to rip it clean out of the binds. 'He's a terrible judge of character! And Malfoy, of all people… honestly, he's so careless…"

_Bang_.

"He's also smart, and resourceful and powerful…' responded Lily across the table. 'Really, Hermione, sometimes I don't think you give him enough credit."

"And sometimes you give him too much!'

_Bang_.

Hermione was horrified with herself the instant the words left her mouth. She looked at Lily, mortified. Lily just sat back in her chair and looked at her hands in her lap, her red hair falling around her face, curtaining it slightly from view.

"Mrs. Potter, I… I'm…' she stuttered, unable to find the words. 'I'm so… I didn't…"

"Maybe I do put too much faith in him.' Said Lily softly. 'Maybe I get false expectations of him. Of his abilities. Of his courage. But he's my son, and to me he's as perfect now as he was the first moment I gave birth to him and held him in my arms. I can't help but put all my faith in him."

"I have faith in him too.' Said Hermione. 'Mrs. Potter, I'm so profoundly sorry! I didn't mean what I said."

Lily looked up at her and smiled. "I know you didn't, Hermione, its fine."

Hermione sighed and put her head in her hands. "I'm just worried about him _so much_. He barrels off all full of energy and gusto without any thought to any of us or his own safety or what sort of situation he could be going into…'

_Bang_.

"…and to go with Malfoy of _all_ people…' said Hermione.

"Draco has an hour to get him back here or he drops to the floor like Wile. E. Coyote at the edge of a cliff with an anvil.' Said Lily. 'He's many things, but stupid is not one of them."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

Lily shrugged. "Well, okay, maybe he is a little."

_Bang_.

"He doesn't want to die, my point is.' Said Lily. 'He may seem blasé about almost everything but his clothes and his hair and his stupid non-existent complexion, but I know for sure that he'll bring Harry hope safe."

"You don't know him like we do.' Said Hermione. 'He's evil. He's conniving, and manipulative, and Ron will you please _stop that_!"

Ron looked over his shoulder at Hermione. He was sitting at the end of the table, feet resting on the chair and his elbow propped up on his knee, his chin in the heel of his hand as he miserably blasted holes in the wall in front of him. The tip of his wand was raised level with his ear, ready to fire another curse when Hermione gave him a look of impatience.

"I know you're upset, but demolishing the house is not helping,' said Hermione, 'nor is the noise at all soothing to listen to while reading!"

"Ron, come sit down.' Said Lily kindly.

He said nothing, just put his wand down on the table and turned back to the wall.

Hermione sighed and gave him a look. "Ron…"

"Hermione, don't.' he said flatly. 'I don't want to talk. I don't want to share my feeling. I don't want to open up."

"I _know_ he's alright.' Said Lily. 'Mother's intuition and all."

Hermione looked at her and smiled.

Lily blinked and laughed. "What? You don't believe me?"

"No, I do! It's just…' she paused and looked back at her book. '…it's odd. Still, after all these months, it's odd. You're odd."

"You think I'm odd?"

"Not you personally – the _idea_ of you. You as a symbol.' Said Hermione, blushing furiously. 'Harry having a parent, someone to worry about him and tell him off and actually claim ownership of him is just…odd."

"We've established the oddness, thanks."

"I don't mean any offence.' Said Hermione. 'But Harry having you around has been something we've all had to get used to, as is your 'mother's intuition'. He's never had that before. It's nice."

Lily sat back in her chair again thoughtfully as Hermione went back to her book. She knew Hermione didn't mean it to sound as bad as it did, and Lily honestly didn't take any offence. It was a fact; it was different for her to be there. Her presence had thrown everything into chaos the moment she had arrived on Harry's doorstep back in August, and although months later everyone had adjusted, it was still so different from the life they had all known. Although, Harry seemed pretty well alright with it all now. Or was she kidding herself? Was he really still freaked out about it all, and she just couldn't see it? Is that why he refused to let her go out with him? Was he ashamed? Did he not know how to be around her in public?

"You're right.' said Ron suddenly. Lily jumped, thankful for the break in her paranoid train of thought.

"Who's right about what?' asked Hermione, looking up.

He turned around and looked at Lily. 'He'll bring him back in time, and he won't have a scratch on him."

"How can you be so sure?' asked Hermione.

Ron pursed his lips and turned back around to the wall. "Just a feeling."

-----------------

Harry was sure he'd never done anything so stupid in his entire life.

The library of Pansy's home was enormous. When Harry had first entered it, his first thought was how much it resembled the library in the castle from the Disney film 'Beauty and the Beast', and he wondered when the Beast himself were going to jump out at him and tell him to piss off. The ceiling was higher than that of The Great Hall at Hogwarts and large windows took up one of the walls, facing the gardens and the village below. The other three walls were taken up with shelves of books, portraits, a large fireplace and a second observation level. In the middle of the room was a massive rug with three handsome oak desks arranged in a triangle, and a large square table in the middle of that. It was, he had to admit, an attractive room… but the fact that it belonged to the Parkinson's took the glamour right out of it.

Draco had led them right into this room, ignoring all other rooms on the two other floors they had walked down to get there. Judging from his explicit knowledge of the layout of the house, Harry guessed he'd been here a few times in the past – no doubt for a boinkfest.

Harry shivered. He did not want to think about that. Ever.

He looked over at them from the corner he was in, an open book in his hand. Draco and Pansy were over at the table looking through dozens of scrolls of parchment, chatting and laughing away. He glared at them. This wasn't meant to be fun. This wasn't meant to be some sort of Sunday picnic or social afternoon. This was serious. This was drastically life changing.

This was _boring_.

Giving them one final glare, Harry turned his back to them again.

Draco chuckled and unrolled another scroll. "Oh, look. Blueprints for your mother's bedroom."

"What?' cried Pansy. 'They are not!"

"Yes, look! Here's her wardrobe…'

"Draco!" cried Pansy, trying to snatch the scroll.

Draco blocked her with his shoulder. "…oh, and look, this is where she keeps her robes…"

'Give me those!"

"If they're not the blueprints, why do you want them so much?' smirked Draco, hiding them behind his back.

"Draco, I swear to Merlin!' laughed Pansy, trying to reach around him.

Draco only smiled and raised them above his head. Pansy let out a cry of annoyance and tried to reach up, but he was too tall and his arm was too long. She grabbed him around the waist and jumped up; trying to get the scroll, but it was no use.

Neither of them noticed Harry rolling his eyes at them.

"Give them to me or I will render you unable to properly function,' she snarled, giving his crotch a look, 'if you get my drift."

Draco's eyes widened. Pansy quirked an eyebrow, indication that she dared him to try and see if she was joking.

He sighed and handed them to her. "You realize that if you had, it would have been your loss as much as mine."

"You're not _that_ hot,' she said, putting the scroll away, 'I'd cope."

Draco went back to his inspection of the scrolls, looking thoroughly offended.

Pansy moved some scrolls aside and sat down on the desk, crossing one leg over the other so her skirt would ride up just that little bit. Draco always liked it when she exposed thigh, just enough but not too much. He would always pretend not to look, but she knew he was. He would go eerily still, and the corner of his mouth would curl upwards only slightly. She ran a hand through her hair and turned to him with a smirk, ready to tease him like she always did when they were alone together, but she found him not still and not smirking, but in fact searching through the scrolls with a pensive expression on his face. He would unroll them and, if they weren't what he was looking for, he rolled them back up again and tossed them aside, immediately reaching for the next one; all the while totally unaware of her presence anymore.

She frowned. "Draco?"

"Hmm?' he asked, not looking up.

"What are you looking for?"

"Proof that you really were adopted like you always said you were."

Pansy gave him a look.

He looked up at her and smirked. "What? You don't think I'm serious?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously in those clothes.' She said, looking at his attire in distaste. 'Where did you get them?"

He sobered up and looked back down at the table. "From…someone."

"Did they send you here?' she asked.

Draco said nothing.

Pansy pursed her lips. "What are you looking for?

"I told you,' he said, unraveling another long scroll, 'your father was in charge of blueprints for the Dark Lord. I want to see them."

"Yes, yes, of course, and it's none of my business even though this is my home and you're looking through my father's things for his documents trusted to him by the Dark Lord himself. I understand all that bollocks. But,' she looked over at Harry to make sure he wasn't listening, before lowering her voice, 'why do you want them? What are you _looking_ for?"

Now Draco went still. He leant against the table and clenched his jaw. "Pans, this is not something you get to gossip about, alright? Not this time."

Pansy sighed. "Top secret, is it?'

Draco said nothing, just continued his search.

Pansy sat up straighter, as usual jumping to her own conclusions. "Did you bring Potter here? Or did he bring you?"

"You do know what 'none of your business' means, don't you, Pans?"

"If you want to continue looking through my library, you're going to have to tell me what's going on!"

Draco put the scrolls down and leaned in close to her, his nose inches from hers as he glared threateningly down at her, his grey eyes narrowed. It took all of Pansy's control not to pull away, and when he spoke it was in a low, spine chilling whisper.

"And if you want to stay conscious, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and let Potter and I get on with what we came here for – no questions asked."

Pansy didn't move as he gave her one last look and went back to his search, his face again molded into that stony, thoughtful expression as if nothing had happened. As if in slow motion, her mouth closed and her eyebrows knotted together in an angry, indignant frown.

"Just who the hell do you think you are?' she hissed, so Harry wouldn't hear.

"A man on a mission.' He said flatly. 'Honestly, woman, didn't you mother teach you the proper etiquette whist in the presence of a man? Be a good girl, go get me a Firewhiskey – make yourself useful."

Pansy pursed her lips. "Listen, Draco, do you realize the position I'm putting myself in, the position I'm putting my _father_ in, but letting you and Potter do this?' she snapped. 'You want to be talking to me a little _nicer_, thank you very much."

Draco looked up at her. "Yes, alright."

Pansy nodded. "Good."

"But do I still get my whiskey?"

Draco ducked as the paperweight zoomed forcibly over his head, missing him my millimeters.

"I hate you.' She scowled, folding her arms over her chest.

He smirked. "I love you too."

Despite a lifetime of better judgment, Pansy couldn't help but blush at his words. She knew he didn't mean it. She knew him saying 'I love you' was as insubstantial as the contents of The Quibbler. She knew it was probably beyond his ability to actually love someone, really love someone, let alone have the balls to tell them out loud and to their face…but when he said those words to her, she couldn't help but feel flustered and incoherent. She knew that he would never really say it to her.

No matter how much she wanted him to.

She shook her head, mentally scolding herself. There was no point thinking about it. Wistful thinking was what Gryffindors did best, with their constant moping and angst; not Slytherins. They were above that. _She_ was above that.

Regaining her dignity, Pansy looked over at Harry in the corner. He was roughly shoving a book back onto the shelf and, with a scowl that said he would rather be anywhere else, pulled down another book and began to flip through it, his lips moving as he muttered angrily to himself. Pansy arched a black eyebrow at him; she'd always though him to be a little mentally unstable, but she didn't think it was so bad that he was talking to himself. So this was their savior? A specky git with bad hair and terrible fashion sense that talked to himself and had visions about killing people?

Pansy snorted.

"I'm sorry, do you need a tissue?"

She looked around and saw Draco watching her. "No, Potter's psychosis is just that amusing."

Draco looked around at Harry and smirked. "Pathetic looking, isn't he? His existence is like a Weasley visiting a bank – completely pointless."

"Then why are you with him?"

"Pansy…"

"I'm sorry, Draco, but its just weird!' she whispered. 'You hate him! He hates you! There's a lot of hate in your relationship, and yet here you are, together!"

Draco gave her a long, piecing look, before going back to the scrolls. "It's complicated."

Pansy scoffed. "That's it? That's the only explanation you have for me?"

"Yes, it is. Pass me that scroll."

She harshly shoved it toward him, and he took it without a glance or a thank you. She glared at him, furious for his elusive attitude. What was so importantly secret that she couldn't know? He told her everything! He told her about his plans to get Hagrid fired when they were thirteen, he told her about Umbridge's plans when they were fifteen, he told her that he had been chosen to undertake an important assignment last year…

Pansy blinked.

She looked over at Harry, his nose still stuck in a book and looking confused, as if he lacked the basic ability to read, and back at Draco, bent over another scroll with his blonde hair falling into his eyes.

"Draco?"

"What now, Pansy?"

"Is Potter your assignment?"

Draco looked up at her, a quick jerk of his head flicking the hair out of his eyes. "What assignment?"

"You know,' she whispered, giving Harry a quick glance before leaning in closer to Draco, dropping her voice even more, 'the assignment the Dark Lord gave you. Are you working with Potter because he asked you to?"

"Certainly not!' laughed Draco. 'The Dark Lord has tried for the past seven years to get people to infiltrate Potter's life and take him down for him, and each time they have failed. Potter has gotten to the point where he doesn't trust anyone, not even himself. What possible benefit would there to be had by putting _me_ of all people into his life?"

"Well, what _are_ you doing with him then?" she demanded.

"I told you to let it go.' He hissed, going back to his work.

Pansy pursed his lips. "So, if Potter wasn't your assignment, then what was?"

Draco said nothing. He clenched his jaw, his cheeks flushing pink with growing annoyance as he rolled up the scroll and reached for another.

"Okay, you don't want to tell me. I get it. It's probably very confidential; strictly between you and the Dark Lord."

He moved around the table to the other side, starting on a new batch of scrolls.

Pansy followed him and sat down again beside him. "Were you at least successful?"

Draco paused, his hand hovering over a piece of parchment. He hesitated for a moment, stiffening, before finally grabbing it and pulling it to him. "Yes, I was successful. The task was completed."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?"

"I suppose."

"Then why are you on the run from the Dark Lord if you were successful?"

"It's complicated."

"If you had done your task, the Dark Lord would have rewarded you, not sent you into exile."

"This exile is my choice."

"From both sides?"

"Indeed."

"Is it to do with Dumbledore's murder?"

Draco slammed his hands down onto the table with such force that Pansy leapt up off it, shocked. He was leaning on his hands, his face contorted with anger as he took slow, even breaths. He glared into space for a long moment, before looking up around at her, his expression neither softening nor hardening.

"I am going to tell you this one final time, and you best pay attention,' he said darkly, 'what happened is in the past, alright? I do not want to talk about it, I do not want to elaborate on it and I do _not_ want to gloat about it. I'm not interested in thinking about anything to do with last year, all I want is your father's bloody scrolls so Potter and I can take them away with us and study them without your constant pestering."

Pansy looked at him, horrified. "You really are working with him, aren't you? You're really working with Potter."

Draco said nothing, just went back to his search.

Pansy's mouth dropped open, and she covered it with a well-manicured hand. "Oh God, I think I just threw up in my mouth."

"Good, then you can stop talking.' Muttered Draco.

"I don't _believe_ this, Draco!' she whispered harshly. 'You're going to side with them? _Them_? The Mudblood lovers? This is inconceivable! You're loyalty is to the Dark Lord! It always has been! Just like your parents, and your friends, and everyone else who _used_ to matter to you! You make one mistake, and now you're going to throw away everything you had and fight with them?"

Quick as a flash, Draco grabbed her harshly by the arm, leaning into her personal space again, his eyes flashing.

"You think I want this?' he hissed, his fingers digging into her. 'You think I want to live with them? You think I want to fight with them? Don't you realize how badly I want my life back? How badly I want things to go back to the way they were? They way they were when we were twelve, and all we had to do was sit back and laugh as Muggleborns got petrified? I don't want to be with them. I don't want to _know_ them. I don't want to be so desperate that they are the only people I can go to for help. But it's the way it is, and I'm doing the best I can with what I have, and what right do you have to tell me that I'm wrong?"

"Draco…' she whispered, her eyes welling up, '…you're hurting me…"

Draco looked down at his hand. He was gripping her so tightly the tips of his fingers had gone white and her arm was going red. Quickly, he released her, feeling a moment of guilt wash over him.

He took slow, deep breaths, giving her a small apologetic look. She flinched, surprised to see such an expression on his face. "My loyalty is not to them, or to the Dark Lord – it's to me, and my Father, and my Mother. To my family… what's left of it. And I'm going to do whatever I can to make things right."

Pansy frowned. "Even if that means betraying the Dark Lord?"

Draco pursed his lips, looked at her for a long moment, and then went back to the scrolls. "Yes."

Pansy's mouth dropped open again. "So this… what you're looking for… its helping Potter, isn't it? It's going to help him defeat the Dark Lord."

"According to Potter.' Said Draco.

She opened her mouth, ready to give him another heated round of her opinions, when there was a bang from the other side of the room. She looked around just in time to see Harry storming over, looking very agitated.

"Malfoy, this is the biggest waste of my time in my entire life!" he cried.

"You mean aside from trying to comb your hair?"

Harry glared at him.

Draco straightened up. "I told you they were here and they are. We just have to find them."

"Don't you know where he keeps them?' asked Harry, looking at Pansy.

Pansy shrugged and leant back on her hands. "How should I know?"

"Because he's your father,' said Harry, 'and because you're the nosiest little bint I've ever sodding met."

"I beg your pardon?' she cried, outraged. She looked at Draco. 'Are you going to just stand there and let him speak to me like that?"

"What?' shrugged Draco. 'He's right."

Pansy let out a cry and threw her hands up in the air. "Draco, I knew you were misogynistic, but _Potter_…"

"Have you found anything?' he asked Draco, cutting her off. 'I could spend all day going through this library."

"Only if you want to know about insurance for the rear gardens and the stock of Skele-Gro. "

Harry frowned and looked around the room. "It's not going to be lying around in plain sight for anyone to see. He's going to have hidden it somewhere, in a safe or a vault or a secret room…"

"Secret room?' chuckled Draco, sitting down beside Pansy. 'What do you think this is? Dracula's Castle?"

"Dracula's castle had better interior design.' Muttered Harry, quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh please, Dracula didn't have half the style my mother has!' scoffed Pansy. 'He was…'

Draco and Harry looked at her.

Pansy smiled, embarrassed. "That wasn't really the point, was it?"

"Does your dad have a safe in this house?' asked Harry. 'A family vault? Some place he would put his valuables?"

Pansy sighed, as if pitying him. "Father puts his prized possessions in the family vault at Gringotts. And before you even ask,' she said quickly, putting a hand up to stop Harry who had just opened his mouth to ask another question, 'no, we can _not_ go there now, and no I can not go and get it for you. Father has the key and even if I could get it off him the goblins won't let me in without written permission from Daddy, personally signed with the family seal."

Harry sniffed, amused. "There's a lot of trust in _your_ family."

Draco smirked and folded his arms over his chest. "Pansy has a bit of a shopping problem, don't you, Pans?"

"I have no problems with anything.' She snapped.

"Look, not that coming here and watching you two flirt, and hearing about your shopping addictions, and reading a million books on dark curses and the history of wizards hasn't been brilliant fun,' said Harry impatiently, 'but I'd really like to get what I came here for and get the hell out of here. Do you have these maps or not?"

"You really think I'm just going to hand them over to you?' she snapped. 'These documents were trusted to my father by the Dark Lord himself! And I'm not stupid; you want to use them to kill him!"

Harry sighed. "Wow. You came up will that all on your own?"

"And what's more,' she snapped, leaping off the table and poking him in the chest, 'you come into my home and talk to me this way and just expect that when you say 'jump', I'll ask, 'how high?'!"

"I don't have time for manners, especially with you!' retorted Harry. 'Listen, you've got fifteen minutes before about seventeen people apparate into this house looking for me…"

Draco cleared his throat.

Harry threw him a look. "_Fine_… looking for '_us'_…

"Would he have hid them behind Sid?' asked Draco, looking at Pansy.

"Sid?' asked Harry, confused. 'Who the bloody hell is Sid?"

But Pansy sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Do you have any idea the position you're putting me in?"

"So they _are_ behind Sid?' asked Draco, his eyes flashing with excitement.

"Who's Sid?' asked Harry again.

But they ignored him.

"I don't know where he's put them!' said Pansy irritably. 'He certainly didn't tell me anything about them, nor has mother! And I doubt even _she_ knows!"

"Your father puts things behind Sid when they're too valuable to put in the vaults in the basement, but too conspicuous to take to Gringotts.' Said Draco. 'If they'll be anywhere, they'll be in there."

"Maybe...' she said, adverting her eyes.

But she didn't get to say anymore, for out of nowhere Draco grabbed her hand, pulled her off the table and ran out of the library, dragging her along behind. Harry only had a second of confused hesitation before he dropped the book he was holding and followed them, hot on their heels.

"Draco, you _can't_!' cried Pansy, helpless to anything by to run down the hallway along behind him.

"Where are we going, Malfoy?' cried Harry, running after them. '_Malfoy_!"

Draco ignored them both and continued to lead them down the hallway. He turned a corner, this corridor as elaborately decorated as all the other. Paintings hung on one wall, watching the three teens run down the hallway, large windows filling their passage with light. They went up another floor, Pansy almost tripping on the stairs but righting herself just in time, and down another hallway until Draco stopped suddenly, causing Harry to almost slam right into Pansy.

"Malfoy,' panted Harry, trying to catch his breath, 'what the…" but he trailed off as he looked around the two Slytherin's, seeing what it was they had stopped in front of.

It was a Manticore.

Not a real one, of course. Harry had only read about them in books Hermione had made him read; he remembered them to be a sign of tyranny and evil mostly. It was a massive stone statue with the body of a lion, the face of a human and a tail ending in a sting, like a scorpion. Its mouth was open in a snarl and one paw raised, ready to swipe out. It was almost as tall as them, and it stood a few feet in front of the ceiling-high window at the end of the corridor, the sun creating an innocent, golden glow around it like a halo.

Harry frowned and looked at Draco. "_This_ is Sid?"

Draco ignored him, simply smirked at the statue. "Hello, Sid, old boy…"

"You named him '_Sid'_?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Yes.' Said Draco simply.

"Why?' asked Harry.

"Why not?' retorted Draco.

"Draco, no way!' shrieked Pansy, putting herself between him and Sid, the Statue. 'You can't possibly want me to wake him up!"

"Well, that is rather the whole point of us standing here in front of him.' Said Draco, looking at her as if she were particularly slow. He made to move around her, but Pansy put her hands on his chest to stop him.

"Draco, I've played along with this game for the good part of an hour but this is going beyond a joke. Do you realize what you're asking me to do?"

Draco wrapped his fingers around her tiny wrists and removed her hands from his chest. "Wake him up."

"I _can't_!"

"Yes, you can.' Said Draco, giving her a look.

"Just do it, will you?' said Harry impatiently, moving to Draco's side. He was almost salivating at the chance to have these documents in his hands. The quicker they were in his possession, the quicker he could study them and the quicker he could go get the next Horcrux.

"Come on, Pansy.' Said Draco. His tone was soft and kind, but his expression was threatening. 'Be a good girl…wake him up…"

"_No_, Draco!' she cried, backing up a little more. 'Going into Sid's vault is something Daddy would never forgive me for! He'll know I've been in there. He'll know I've taken out his files! I'm not even meant to know they exist, let alone go snooping around in there looking for them!"

"Fine,' said Harry, 'tell us how to do it and _we'll_ get them out. You can just wait in another room or something."

"Nobody but a Parkinson can wake him up.' snarled Pansy. 'And I simply _refuse_…"

Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and raised it at her, softly tilting her chin upward with its tip "And _I_ simply refuse to have gone to all this trouble to let your stupid, twisted Slytherin morals get in my way now.' He growled. 'Wake him up, Parkinson. _Now_."

Pansy was rigid. She glared at Harry, wishing she could perform the Killing Curse without her wand and make his stupid head fall to the ground and crack open. She looked down at the tip of his wand at her chin. She didn't doubt he would hex her if he had to; he was definitely desperate enough. Whatever he wanted those blueprints for must have been pretty important and crucial; all the more reason she didn't want to give them to him – why would she want to make his life any easier? She favored him with one last icy stare before looking at Draco.

He was, to her astonishment, looking as determined and impatient as Harry was. His lips were pressed into a thin line and his expression was hard, his eyes blazing with annoyance that, like always, he so desperately want to lash out with but never actually would. Random displays of raw emotion were beneath him, in his opinion. But she knew him well enough to know what he was thinking, and what his subtle expressions meant.

"Pansy,' said Draco, quirking an eyebrow, 'for the last time… wake him up."

Pansy bit her lip, feeling very nervous. "If he finds out…"

"He wont.' assured Draco.

"How do you know?' she demanded.

"Well, _we're_ certainly not going to tell him.' Said Harry. 'And, as much as I doubt your intelligence, I can't see you telling him about it any time soon either."

Pansy sighed and looked at Draco, wanting his final word.

Draco nodded. "Come on, give him the password."

She frowned, gave the two boys another long look before she finally shoved Harry's wand away harshly. She took another step back, placed her hand on the Manticore's massive stone mane and, after one last glare at them, closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

"What's she doing now?' asked Harry.

"Just shut up, will you?' hissed Draco. 'For once in your entire life… do society a favor…"

Harry supplied him with a usual glare, and then turned to look at Pansy. She was frowning; her eyes were shut with concentration as she, apparently, tried to wake Sid up. Harry thought it was just some elaborate trick, and that she was distracting him so Draco could jump him and the two of them could knock him unconscious, and then stand over his limp form and cackle manically while lighting flashed outside and thunder clapped. But he looked over at Draco and found him to be watching Pansy, hands folded over his chest and weight shifted onto one foot as if he had all the time in the world.

He looked back at Pansy, just as her posture stiffened and she said, "_Callipygian_".

There was a split second where nothing happened, and then a ripple of magic went down the Manticore's body like a shiver. Harry's eyes widened as the Manticore came to life, just like the Gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. The massive animal shook itself awake, looked at Pansy and inclined its head respectfully.

Pansy looked at Draco and Harry. "There, he's awake. Happy now?"

"Get him to move.' Said Draco, his voice still as calm as if they were discussing weather over tea.

The Manticore tensed up, bared its teeth and growled threatening at Draco. Harry smirked, pleased that not everyone in this house wanted to lick Draco's boots.

If Draco was intimidated, he didn't show it. He simply smirked at the Manticore. "Afternoon, Sid."

Sid snorted menacingly.

Pansy put a hand on his mane to sooth him. "Sid, move over, will you please? I need to get into the vault."

Harry blinked, surprised. He'd never heard her voice so soft or polite before, and it was startling the change it made. Sid looked at Pansy, smiled and bowed, and took two steps to the side, revealing a trap door in the floor.

Pansy folded her arms over her chest, her sneer back. "There, help yourselves. It's only my _life_ on the line."

"Yeah, brilliant, thanks!' said Harry, not caring at all as he dashed forward and dropped to his knees, wrenching the wooden door upward.

"He has just such lovely tact, doesn't he?' sighed Draco, folding his arms as Pansy came to stand with him. He looked at her and smiled patronizingly. 'Don't worry, you did the right thing."

Pansy looked at him, aghast. "How, in any dimension, is betraying my family and The Dark Lord to Potter, _helping_ Potter, the 'right thing'?"

"You're not helping Potter,' scoffed Draco, 'you're helping me."

"And what does any of this have to do with you?"

Draco pursed his lips into a thin line. "Everything."

Pansy hugged herself and asked him the question she'd been sitting on since the moment he'd entered her house. "When this is all over, Draco… am I even going to see you again?"

He said nothing, just watched Harry search through the vault under the trap door.

She frowned, feeling alarmed. "Draco…"

"A_HA_!' cried Harry triumphantly. He pulled himself out of the hole in the floor (which he had disappeared almost completely into, head first), got to his feet and ran over to Draco, ignoring Sid's snarl to wave three scrolls in his face. 'Jackpot! These are it, I'm sure of it."

"Give me those.' Snapped Draco, snatching them out of Harry's hand. He unrolled them with a dignified flick of his wrist and held them up to examine them. He looked down his nose at the schematics etched onto the parchment. They were a series of tunnels that looked as if they went miles underground. They had apparition points, points marked fro protective wards, hundreds of rooms… it was like an endless maze.

"Come on, give them back." He said impatiently.

Draco hugged them to his chest protectively. "No."

"Down, Sid.' Said Pansy.

Sid, who had slowly creeping nearer and nearer to Harry and Draco, stopped at Pansy's command. He looked at her and sat down heavily with a 'clunk', looking thoroughly disappointed that he could not attack the boys and rip them to shreds.

Harry looked at his watch and rolled his eyes. "Malfoy, we don't have time for this. Just hand them over!"

"Don't you trust me with them?"

"Gee, let me think…' said Harry, looking mock thoughtful.

"I'm highly offended!' smirked Draco.

Harry stepped forward, snatched back the scrolls and shoved Draco harshly in the chest, just because he could.

"Fine, you've got them.' Said Pansy rudely, going over to Sid to help him back into position. 'Can you just bugger off now, then, Potter? I don't want to see your face again until the month of never."

"Likewise.' Muttered Harry irritably. He turned to Draco. 'Go get Hermione for me, will you?"

"I beg your pardon?' spluttered Draco. 'I'm not your servant! I do not do as you tell me, simply because you threaten me with a close proximity to your hair!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I swear to God, I am going to belt you so hard…"

"It was bad enough bringing you here, and now you want me to go get Granger too?' said Draco, amazed.

"What?' snapped Pansy. '_Granger_? Here? I do not want that Mudblood anywhere near me or my house!"

"_WATCH YOUR MOUTH_!" roared Harry, jabbing a finger at her.

Pansy blinked and recoiled, shocked.

"And you,' he snapped, whirling back around at Draco, 'go get Hermione and bring her here."

"Would you mind tell me why?' asked Draco.

"Yes, I would.' Said Harry impatiently. 'We've got ten minutes, Malfoy. Go get her!"

"Why me?'

"Because you know how to get back here better than I do. And,' said Harry, blushing, 'you know how to take people with you. I don't want to splinch her."

"How very considerate of you.' Drawled Draco. 'But why am I bringing her here?"

Harry said nothing, just gave him a meaningful look.

Draco's eyes widened as he finally understood. He looked over at Pansy, who was putting Sid to sleep, watching the two of them out of the corner of her eye before he looked back at Harry, grabbed his arm tightly and dragged him out of Pansy's earshot.

"No, absolutely not.' He hissed, giving Harry the deadliest glare he could muster.

"We have to.' Said Harry softly, but insistently. 'I won't have her walking around knowing that we've been here."

"You can't just wipe her memory!' snapped Draco. 'You just can't!"

"Because it's wrong?"

"Yes!"

"And killing Dumbledore was for the greater good, was it?' said Harry, his eyes blazing with fury.

Draco pursed his lips in a snarl, his fists clenching at his side. It was taking every ounce of self control not to hit Harry square in the face. "She's not going to tell anyone. She's not that stupid."

"You could have fooled me."

"Telling anyone that we were here would put her in so much shite she'd be smelling like it for the rest of her life.' Whispered Draco. 'She's not going to put herself in that position, and if we can get these files home quick enough we can have them back to her before her father even notices they were taken."

"And what if he does notice?' countered Harry. 'Who do you think the first person he's going to go to about it? He could use Legilimency on her, he could use Veritaserum; she can't tell the truth if she doesn't remember it."

Draco frowned and looked over at Pansy again. She had her arms folded over her chest and was leaning against a now immobile Sid, staring out the window trying to look like she wasn't attempting to eavesdrop.

Harry relaxed a little, seeing Draco's face. "Look, in some weird way I suppose I can see your point. She's your friend, isn't she?'

"After a fashion."

"Look at it this way – what I'm doing, it's to protect her as much as it is us."

Draco cringed, as if he smelt something foul, and looked back at Harry. "But why Granger? I just got these second hand rags dry-cleaned."

Harry gave him a look. "Because Hermione's the only one of us who knows how to do a memory charm – besides Mum, and I'm certainly not having her here.' He added. 'Now will you just go?"

"What's the magic word?' smirked Draco.

"Lobotomy.' Growled Harry menacingly.

Draco straightened up. "Well, I certainly won't be apparating anywhere without a wand, now will I? Come on, give me yours."

Harry laughed. "No way! You can take hers."

Pansy looked around at them to see Harry pointing at her. "What? You want to leave me here alone with _him_? Without a wand?"

"Because it would be so much safer for me to be here alone with you without a wand.' Snapped Harry.

Draco shrugged. "If he tries to attack you, wake up Sid."

Pansy spluttered in outrage as Draco held his hand out expectantly for her. "Never in my entire life… with Potter… can't believe…"

"Yes yes, good good… give me your wand already.' Said Draco impatiently.

Harry raised his wand at her. She sighed, hesitated and shoved her wand harshly into Draco's hand. "Are you _really_ going to get Granger?"

Draco nodded. "Sadly."

"_Yech_.' Said Pansy, dry-reaching. 'Make sure you wash your hands afterward."

Draco smirked, gave a little chuckle and apparated out, leaving Harry and Pansy to stare at one another in a long moment of tense silence.

Harry shuffled awkwardly on his feet, swinging his arms at his side. He'd never liked being alone in someone else's house; it was that old, lingering feeling of rudeness that had been imprinted on him by Aunt Petunia when he was younger. He'd been taught that he was to keep out of everyone's way and say nothing or he would go without dinner and supper. He tried to push it aside; he was older now. He didn't care that he was standing in the middle of Pansy Parkinson's hallway, uninvited, with her father's top secret files under his arm. He didn't care that she was glaring at him, weight rested on one leg and arms folded over her chest. He'd never been intimidated by her in the seven years he'd known her, and he wasn't about to start now.

She pursed her lips. "You don't care what you've done to him, do you?"

"Not really, no.' said Harry. 'Not that I have any idea what the sodding hell you're on about…"

"Look at him!' said Pansy.

"I would if he was here."

"Dressed like a Muggle, talking like one of you with those ridiculous Muggle references…' she snapped, insulted, 'what have you done to him?"

"I haven't done anything to him!' cried Harry. 'You want to know what I would _like_ to do to him?"

"Why is he so different then?' she demanded.

Harry blinked. "Different? He's no different! He's still the stupid git he's always been."

Pansy rolled her eyes and laughed. "Go get new glasses, Potter, because you must be blind. That Draco Malfoy is not the Draco Malfoy I've known since I was five years old. I know Draco better than anyone and I'm telling you… he's _different_."

He didn't believe it for a second. He didn't see any change in Draco at all. He was still rude, and annoying, and irritating, and snobby and everything he'd been since the day Harry had met him on the Hogwarts Express. What was she on about? It must have been his clothes. She wasn't used to seeing him in anything worth under two thousand galleons.

"If he is, it wouldn't be because of me.' said Harry simply.

"Who was it then?"

"Why? Want to know who to send the Howler and the Bubotuber Puss to?"

CRACK.

Harry blinked, Pansy's face contorted with fury suddenly blocked by Draco and Hermione standing in front of him. Hermione had her hand in Draco's, looked around the room and frowned.

"This is _not_ Diagon Alley you twerp!" she cried, hitting him in the arm.

"Are you always so violet with members of the opposite sex?' asked Draco, taking a step away from her.

"No, just you.' She sneered, giving him a forced smile.

Draco sighed. "You're too kind to me, Granger."

"Harry!' cried Hermione, finally spotting him. 'Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Don't fuss!' said Harry, trying to push her away. 'What took you both so long?"

Draco sighed. "Weasley simply refused to let me take her out of the house without him. Put up this big kafuffle about me being "evil" and having "ulterior motives" and being a "smarmy git"…"

"I told him he was being absurd and to shut up.' smiled Hermione. 'Now, where are we that's so darn…'

She trailed off as Draco moved and she spotted Pansy, glaring at her with such hatred it was a wonder red laser beams weren't shooting out of her eyes.

Hermione sighed and folded her arms over her chest. "Oh. You.' She said. 'I had a feeling it would be you."

"As much as I long to exchange a witty banter with you, Granger, after such a long time apart, having you and Potter in my house at the exact same time is almost too much dirt of me to take.' She said in a false-polite tone. 'So, just do whatever it is you came here to do and get out.

"Gladly,' Said Hermione, looking around, 'These pastels are hurting my eyes."

Pansy flared up, but Hermione had already turned back around to Harry.

"What's going on? Are those the schematics?' she asked softly, eyeing the scrolls under Harry's arms.

Harry nodded and held them out for her. "Can you go photocopy these? I want them as clear as you can get them."

"My Dad has a photocopy machine in his office, I can use that.'

"Good. Then bring them back here as soon as you can. I need you to do something else for me before we go."

Hermione nodded and, without anymore questions, apparated out of the house with a 'pop'.

"Is she gone for good?' asked Pansy. 'I'll need the house elves to scrub that rug now."

Draco gave her back her wand. "You've been most helpful today."

"For the wrong side, yes.' She grumbled. 'This is high treason! Do you know what could happen if I get found out?"

"Yes,' he said, his expression darkening, 'I do know."

Pansy flinched. "I'm sorry, I didn't…' she paused and sighed. 'Have you gone to see him?"

Draco sniffed, amused. "I can't exactly stroll into Azkaban to see him, can I? Not with all that's happened. It'd be suicide, and I did not go through all I've been through in the past few months to end up like him."

Pansy looked over at Harry to make sure he wasn't listening, before leaning in close so only Draco could hear. "You know, The Dark Lord… he can be forgiving… if you just tell him what happened you can stop this nonsense. You can have your life back – be one of us again."

Draco looked at her, a small frown knotting his eyebrows together.

"You could have your old clothes back.' She added, running a hand over the sleeve of his jumper. 'What _is_ this colour? Beige?"

"I wasn't allowed to change its colour,' he said, looking down at himself, 'even though I have said repeatedly tried to explain that black compliments my eyes…"

"And green,' said Pansy, putting her hands on his hips and examining his jeans, 'that's a good colour for you too."

"You think so? I always imagined it rather clashed."

"Honestly, your Quidditch robes were green! And you looked very sexy in them."

"Yes, those were the exception. I think that's why the Sorting Hat placed me in Slytherin – it knew I looked fabulous in green."

Harry looked at Draco in fear, making a mental note to hide the olive oil when they got home.

CRACK.

Hermione walked straight over to Pansy and shoved the scrolls in her hands. "There you are."

Pansy cringed and held them up in front of her, gripping the string holding them closed with the very tips of her thumb and forefinger.

Draco took them off her with a smirk. "Allow me."

"Did you copy them?' asked Harry as Hermione, after giving Pansy an eye roll, made her way over to him.

She patted her hip pocket with a smile. "The wonders of modern technology. Although I don't understand why you wanted them copied. You had them, why don't you just take them?"

Harry's eyebrows rose. "What is this I hear? Hermione Granger, proposing _theft_?"

Hermione blushed. "They belong to a Death Eater. To Voldemort. It _certainly_ is not the same thing."

"Right, you've got what you wanted.' Said Pansy sharply, Sid awake once more and watching fastidiously as Draco put the scrolls back into the vault in the floor. 'Both of you can now get the hell out of my house."

"And him.' Said Hermione pointing at Draco.

Pansy's eyes narrowed and she stepped in front of Draco. "You're not taking him."

"Oh, right, sure,' Said Harry, rolling his eyes, 'that's fine. You just keep him here with you. Lock him in your room, dress him in your skirts, do his hair… try not to let Daddy find out he's here and turn him into Voldemort. Not to mention the fact that he'll be dead, but whatever your kink…"

"_Dead_?' she cried, her eyes widening. 'Are you threatening him?"

"No, I'm warning him.' Said Harry, looking around her at Draco who had just gotten to his feet. 'Come on, three minutes."

"Three minutes for what? Draco!'

Pansy whirled around and fixed Draco with a furious, desperate stare. He put his hands in his pockets and sighed.

"There's no point explaining, you won't remember anyway."

"Won't remember?"

"It's for your own good as well as ours."

"You're not seriously going to go back with them, are you?"

"I don't have a choice. Now hold still."

"Hold still? What on earth…"

But what on earth she was referring to, they didn't get to hear, for a stream of red hit her in the back and she pitched forward into Draco's arms, unconscious.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes in relief as Hermione put her wand away. "_Thank_ you. I've been dying to do that all afternoon!"

"I swear to Merlin,' growled Draco, giving them both a glare as he picked up Pansy and cradled her in his arms, 'if I had my wand…"

"Yes yes, live to regret it… resemble puss… its all shop talk, Malfoy; shut up and bring her here." Said Harry.

"Why?' he asked suspiciously.

"Hermione needs to perform a memory charm on her, remember?"

"I do?' asked Hermione, looking at Harry, startled.

"We don't want her ratting on us to her Dad.' Said Harry. 'And she can't do that if she doesn't remember we were here."

Hermione nodded, pulled her wand out again and made her way over to an unconscious Pansy cradled limp in Draco's arms. Draco's eyes narrowed as she approached and his grip tightened; tensed, as if he were ready to bolt with her if Hermione tried to hurt her. Hermione was surprised by this protective streak, but she didn't let it show as she began the spell.

The area around Pansy's head glowed purple as Hermione muttered incantations under her breath, and after a few moments the purple haze disappeared and Hermione stepped back, looking very pleased with herself.

"Right, done. Now put that somewhere where no-one can trip over her. She'll wake up in a few hours." Said Hermione dismissively, waving a hand at him. 'And do be quick about it, we haven't got all day."

Draco fumed at her as she turned to walk back over to Harry, but at the last minute she turned around quickly, reached out and ruffled Pansy's perfectly straight hair until a wild knotty mess.

Hermione squared her shoulders and sighed, satisfied. "Okay, now you can go."

He had to leave quickly. He didn't trust himself to be in their presence for another second and not give into the impulse to beat them both into the floor. He was so tense and furious he could taste bile in his mouth, but he didn't dare stop walking. The house was silent as he carried her all the way around another corner, up another flight of stairs and down to the fifth door on the right – her bedroom.

The door was already slightly ajar, so he only had to softly kick it inward. Her room hadn't changed since the last time he'd been there; still elaborated decorated and spacious. But today he took no notice. He had probably a minute left before he would collapse as much of a dead weight as she was now, only he wouldn't wake up like she eventually would.

He walked over to her four-poster bed and laid her down carefully. He took a moment to smooth out her hair and examine her face; what was normally so cold and mocking was now peaceful and serene. It was the most attractive expression he'd ever seen on her face, so he couldn't help himself when he leant in and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"Goodbye, Pans.' He whispered in her ear.

* * *

A/N – sorry for the long delay, peoples. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Please review!


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39!

* * *

Harry stopped in his tracks suddenly as his eyes landed on Hermione. 

She was bent in front of the bathroom door, hands resting on her knees as she peered through the keyhole. Her hair was hanging around most of her face, but Harry could see that her mouth was open with one corner turned upward, and her eyebrows were arched so high they almost disappeared into her hairline.

Harry blinked, trying very hard not to laugh. "Hermione?"

Hermione squeaked in surprise, clapped a hand over her mouth, straightened up and looked at Harry in horror. "_Harry_!"

Harry just raised his eyebrows as she smoothed out her shirt and frowned at him.

"What do you think you're doing, sneaking up on me?' she demanded tersley. 'What are you doing up here?"

"I was getting my Sneakascope.' Said Harry, knowing she was only mad because she had been busted doing something she wasn't meant to be doing. 'What are _you_ doing?"

"What?"

"You… doing… fill in the blanks."

"Oh, me? I was… I, er… I was…' she looked around at the door and then back at him. 'I was just… there's… the door's jammed.' She said quickly.

Harry pursed his lips, trying not to laugh. "Really?"

"Yes, the door is stuck terribly, and I was trying to find a way to fix it.' She said.

"You're awfully flushed, Hermione. Stressed?"

"No, of course not! I'm… it's… this door! It's jammed!"

"So you said.' Said Harry. 'Want me to take a look at it?"

"NO!' said Hermione, stepping in front of Harry to block his path. She smiled up at him nervously. 'Don't be absurd, you're busy. You go, I'll just try and get this door un-jammed because… because it's jammed…"

"And you want to stop the house from flooding?' he asked.

Hermione's expression fell. "What?"

"The shower's going.' Said Harry, jerking his head at the door.

She looked around at the door and, after a moment, laughed. "Oh, so it is! I didn't even… I didn't…"

"Just apparate in there if you want to turn off the water.' Said Harry, smirking.

"I couldn't do that!' she said, horrified.

"Why not?"

"I'd… I'd get wet."

"And that's a problem?"

Harry only saw Hermione flush scarlet before the bathroom door swung inward and Harry finally understood.

"Oh, hey.' Said Ron, grinning at them both. He hitched up the towel around his waist and ruffled his sopping wet hair with his free hand. 'What are you both up to then?"

"Hermione was trying to fix the door.' Grinned Harry.

"What for?' asked Ron, looking at Harry and then Hermione. 'What's wrong with it?"

Hermione didn't answer at first. She said nothing as she tried desperately to look away from Ron and his bare, freckled, surprisingly toned chest with droplets of water running down it to the top of the towel that was wrapped around his hips so low she could see the V of his hip and pelvis. She looked as if someone had winded her.

Ron looked up at Harry, confused about Hermione's expression and stunned silence. Harry had his head bowed, his shoulders shaking.

Remembering herself, Hermione blinked. "Oh, the… er, the door… it was jammed."

"It was?' asked Ron, puzzled. He went to the door, shut it, and then opened it again without any problem. 'Looks alright to me."

"Yeah, me too.' Said Harry, only barely containing his laughter.

Hermione laughed and pointed at the door. "How about that! You fixed it!"

Ron smiled. "Yeah, guess so!"

"Excellent. Brilliant.' She said, biting her lip. 'Well, I'm going to go then… downstairs… and read because… because I can read and… and it's what I do."

"Alright then.' Chuckled Ron, looking at her as if she'd gone mad.

"Yes…' she muttered, looking at his chest again, swinging her arms at her side, totally unaware of Harry's sniggers behind her, '…downstairs…yes…'

A long moment of silence passed. Hermione had a small frown on her face as she looked at Ron but, at the same time, trying not to look. Ron was looking at her looking at him, confused with his still sopping wet hair, now a blood red, sticking to his forehead as water droplets ran down his face and torso, his hand holding the knot of the blue towel wrapped around him and the area around his feet becoming increasingly damp. Harry had now had to put a hand over his mouth, forcing himself to cough every few seconds to hide his laughter.

But what seemed like minutes was only in reality a few seconds, and Hermione snapped herself out of her stupor, smiled up at Ron and hastily ran off down the hallway and around the corner, out of sight.

Ron looked at Harry, who was bent over double, his whole body shaking with suppressed laughter. "What the bloody hell…"

Harry burst out laughing and shrugged rubbing his sore stomach muscles. "The door was jammed!"

"Apparently.' Chuckled Ron, looking at the door behind him. 'Did she know I was in there?"

Harry just continued to laugh.

"Why did she run off like that do you suppose?" asked Ron.

"She didn't want to get wet,' said Harry, patting Ron on the arm as he made to leave, 'but I imagine it was already too late for that."

Ron watched Harry walk off down the hallway in the direction Hermione had gone, laughing his head off long after he was out of sight, leaving him standing in the middle of the corridor, very confused.

By the time Harry arrived in the drawing room his laughter had died down to a light chuckle, but he still had a large grin on his face. For the awkwardness he normally felt when 'more than friends' situations arose between Ron and Hermione and he was present, it was nice to just be able to laugh at them and not feel uncomfortable.

In fact, it was nice just to be able to laugh at all.

Draco looked up as Harry entered the room. "What are you so happy about?"

"Liz Hurley and Hugh Grant are splitting up.'

Draco quirked an eyebrow.

Harry sighed and sat down at the table with him. "What have you got?"

"If there is a numeral less than zero, that is what we have.' Said Draco, glaring at the maps spread across the table between them. 'The confounded things are in gibberish."

"Let me see…'

Harry reached out for them, but Draco threw his arms over the maps before he could even get a glance.

"Potter, if Granger can't decipher them and your mother can't decipher them and Lupin can't decipher them, what chance do you really think _you_ have?"

"None, considering you wont let me look at them!' snapped Harry irritably, hitting Draco in the arms.

"They're _delicate_,' said Draco, 'and not for grubby, sticky Gryffindor hands."

Harry glared at him and put his Sneakascope on the table. "There aren't words to express how much I hate working with you."

Draco frowned at the little object on the table. "What is _that_ doing back here?"

"She missed you."

"How many times must we go through this?' sighed Draco. 'It didn't go off the first time you brought it, nor the twenty three times after that. Why would it go off now?"

"Because I don't trust you."

"The diminutive, second hand Sneakascope seems to,' said Draco, gesturing to the small little lie detector to Harry's right, 'why shouldn't you? Or do you not trust it either?"

Harry pursed his lips. "Ron gave it to me when I was thirteen."

Draco smirked. "Of course he did; look at its decrepit condition."

"You know, for someone who is wearing hand-me-downs from a man in his mid-thirties and barely has two Knuts to rub together, you'd think you might have a little more empathy toward Ron and his family.' Snapped Harry.

"My feelings about Weasley and his family are not even in the vicinity of 'empathetic'.' Said Draco simply. 'And don't go getting any ideals about trying to change my views on everyone's situation just because I now work along side you. Never try to teach a pig to sing, Potter…it wastes your time and it annoys the pig.

Harry rolled his eyes and picked up the nearest quill, attempting to occupy his fingers which were itching to close tightly around Draco's slender neck.

It had been the same routine for the past ten days. Harry knew; he'd been counting. Every day they would bring themselves up into the drawing room to try and decode the strange language the schematics were written in. They had been passed around from Remus, to Moody, to Lily, to Hermione, to Kingsley, snatched back by Hermione, given back to Lily and finally, somehow, had ended up with Draco. Personally, Harry didn't understand what all the fuss was about. When he'd had his quick look at them the week prior at Pansy's house, they'd looked to be in plain English to him. Perhaps he had been seeing things, because no-one else seemed to be able to read them. Perhaps it had been charmed in such a way that only Voldemort or a Death Eater could read it. Was such a spell even possible?

Harry shook his head clear of all these questions. They'd been racing through his head non-stop for the past few days and it made his already low attention span even smaller.

It also didn't help that his study-buddy was Draco Malfoy.

He didn't know how it had happened, but in a blur of a day he had returned from Pansy Parkinson's house, announced to everyone that he had what he'd gone to get and marched straight upstairs dragging Draco along behind him. Hermione and Ron had followed, of course, ready to get their hands dirty in some more research but Harry had thrown Draco into the room and slammed the door behind him, shutting his two best friends out. He didn't know if they were mad at him, in that moment he hadn't cared. He hadn't spoken to anyone much since then, so he still didn't know. Part of him didn't want to.

He looked over at Draco, as usual surprised to see him working. He'd listened to what Pansy had said – he was different. Harry had gone out of his way to take notice, and while the changes were slight, they were there none-the-less.

Then again, maybe this was just the way Draco was, and Harry didn't know him as well as he thought he did.

"Why are you here?' asked Harry, breaking the silence.

"I like the wallpaper.' Said Draco flatly, not looking up from the notes he was writing.

"Don't be a git, Malfoy, I'm being serious.' Snapped Harry. 'Why are you here? Why are you helping us?"

Draco dropped his quill and swept a hand through his hair, laughing softly in attempt to hide his anger. "Honestly, you nosy people… do I have to hang my reasons around my neck so everyone who's curious can just have a look anytime they want?"

"No, but it'd be nice to know anyway."

"It's really none of your business.' Said Draco shortly.

Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Does Tonks know?"

"Drop it, Potter, before I smack it out of your hand."

But Harry was never one to let things go easily.

"Voldemort's your God-damn idol, isn't he?' said Harry, grimacing at the very thought of anyone finding anything about Voldemort worthy to admire. 'Why would you help me when I'm meant to be the one to kill him? Why are you doing this?"

"Why are _you_ doing this?' retorted Draco irritably.

Harry blinked, shaken by the question. "Why am I doing what? Asking you all these questions?"

"No,' said Draco slowly, 'why are you wasting your time fighting for this ridiculous cause of yours? Why are you up here, locked in this room with dusty old books, trying to find a way to kill a man who is more powerful than you?"

"Because I have to.' Said Harry, stunned.

"And who told you that?' asked Draco, quirking an eyebrow, 'Dumbledore?"

"You don't get to talk about Dumbledore,' Sneered Harry, his fists clenching, '_ever_."

Draco grit his teeth and sat back in his seat. "It _was_ him, wasn't it? It's pretty obvious. No one else could ever tell you what to do. You'd never listen to anyone else."

"He didn't 'tell' me to _do_ _anything_.' Snapped Harry. 'This is the way it has to be. I'm the one who has to defeat Voldemort."

"Because you said so?"

"Because that's just the way it is!' cried Harry. 'It's none of your damn business, Malfoy!"

"Just some foolish crusade you've put yourself on then, is it?' smirked Draco. 'You've certainly got that 'hero complex' down-pat, don't you?"

"This isn't about fame or wanting to look good in front of everyone.' Snapped Harry, his fists shaking. 'Maybe that was what you wanted when you became Voldemort's lap-dog…."

"You know nothing about what's happened to me, Potter,' snarled Draco, tensing, '_nothing_."

"Of course I do.' Said Harry. 'Voldemort got you wrapped around his little finger so tight that you'd do anything to get the tiniest grin on his face. Let me guess? He offered you a chance for a new life? Ultimate, unrivaled power? Yeah, I've heard the sales pitch before. I bet that sounded pretty good, didn't it? You always liked to feel superior to everyone else, and this was your chance to get what you'd always wanted."

"Shut up, Potter.' Growled Draco. But Harry wasn't done.

"You would have done anything for that power and approval, and look what it got you. Look what you did for it. You killed a man, and now you have no life at all. You made things ten times worse for everyone else because you couldn't stop thinking about yourself for more than three seconds. You made a mess and now _I_ have to bloody clean it up."

"You know what, Potter? Just shut the hell up.' snapped Draco. 'You can sit there and preach to me all you want about what's right and what's wrong, but don't expect me to feel remorseful or guilty just because you demand me to. I have my reasons for what I did. I did what I felt was the only right thing to do at that time and I will not sit here and let you chastise me for something you know absolutely nothing about!"

"You thought killing Dumbledore was _right_?' spat Harry, beyond furious. 'You thought letting Death Eaters into the school and almost costing dozens of people their lives was the right thing to do? Hagrid's house was burned down because of you. Dumbledore was _killed_ because of you. Bill was almost turned into a werewolf, Ginny was almost killed, Luna needed blood replenishing potion for two days… all because you thought you were doing the '_right thing'_.'

Harry's chest was heaving. This was what had been sitting on his chest since the day Dumbledore had died. These were the words he'd wanted to shout at Draco since the second he'd seen him with Tonks in his kitchen weeks ago. He wanted to leap over the table and knock Draco to the ground. He wanted to beat into him, make him feel what it was like to feel the pain Harry felt whenever he dreamed of that night up on the Astronomy Tower. Draco was looking at him with equal fury. His eyes were narrowed and his hands were balled into fists underneath the table where Harry couldn't see. Rage was coursing through his veins; livid that Harry could sit there and judge him and think that it was alright.

"I have my reasons.' Sneered Draco.

"And what are they?' demanded Harry.

"Well, what are _yours_?' retorted Draco. 'Come on, Potter, enlighten me. If not mentally retarded, why _do_ you do the things you do? Why are you in the middle of this war if no-one put you there?"

"Because that's the right thing to do.'

"No, come on,' pushed Draco, 'what's the real reason?"

"What do you think?"

"You tell me."

Harry clenched his jaw. "Voldemort killed my parents. He murdered my father, and my mother, and he tried to murder me. He's a killer. He wrecks people's lives, simply because he can. He could kill my friends, and I won't let that happen.' He sat up straighter, fixing Draco with a firm stare. 'As long as I am alive, I will not stop fighting him. I will not let him win."

"And how do you plan on stopping him?"

"I thought I might try violence."

"And you think that'll be enough?' laughed Draco.

Harry frowned. "Well, I certainly won't be singing him to sleep then smothering him with a pillow."

Draco smiled and shook his head. "You are so pathetically naive, Potter. You don't really think you alone can stop him, do you?"

"Why? Because he's so powerful?"

"Yes!' said Draco, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and he feared for Harry's mental health because of his apparent inability to grasp the concept. 'There's a reason he's the most feared wizard of our time, and it's not because of his horrendous complexion – trust me, the man _needs_ sunlight.' Added Draco thoughtfully.

"Is there a point coming up in your mindless babble anytime this century?" asked Harry, bored.

"The point is, Potter, that he is more powerful than anyone!' said Draco. 'I've seen what he can do. He can reduce a man to nothing with merely a blink of an eyelid. He can cast spell after spell for what seems like hours and hardly tire. He knows magic we could scarcely imagine, has mastered spells we would never think of attempting, and you think _you_ can stop him?"

Harry reached for the locket hanging around his neck and gripped it tightly. "I have power the Dark Lord knows not.'

"And what's that? Acne cream? Face it, Potter, you haven't a chance in hell."

"As long as I'm willing, there's always a chance.'

"Potter, you are a seventeen year old boy who can barely transfigure a rabbit into a slipper.' Said Draco, giving Harry a look. 'The Dark Lord is in the prime of his life, at the peak of his power, with more experience, wisdom and knowledge than you could ever have a hope to get within in the next ten or even twenty years of your life. You really think you have any hope?"

Harry didn't answer. He clenched his jaw and glared at Draco, long after he had gone back to work. He hated Draco, and even more than he hated Draco he hated Draco's ability to make the truth blaringly obvious. Where they normally went through the usual banter of insults, this was different than any conversation they had ever had before. Harry was mad at Draco not because he didn't agree with him, but because he _did_. Every point Draco had brought up had been all that Harry had been able to think about since he had first found out about the prophecy. It had been what everyone else already knew but hadn't wanted to say out loud. It had been blaringly obvious to everyone, but everyone had been too nice or too worried to say it to Harry's face – Draco hadn't. And Harry hated him more, because he was thankful for that.

He had to get out.

He got to his feet. "I'm going downstairs."

"That's nice."

"Don't discover anything important until I come back."

"I don't foresee that being a problem."

---------------

When Harry got downstairs, it took him all of thirty seconds to discover that everyone was in the living room.

Ron and Hermione were sitting on the sofa by the window, chatting and laughing. Harry was pleased to see that Hermione had gotten over her 'issues' earlier, but he couldn't be bothered smiling about it. Tonks was on the sofa to his right, organizing her standard Auror effects, checking them to make sure they were all functioning properly and so on. Lily was on the sofa opposite her, legs tucked under her and her nose in a book. Her hair was up today in that messy ponytail that Harry liked, but again he couldn't find the energy to smile.

"What are you reading?' he asked, sitting down next to her.

Lily said nothing, just held up the book so he could see the cover.

Harry frowned. "_'Hexes, Hexes, Hexes'_?"

"It's a book about hexes,' she said, turning the page, 'what would _you_ call it?"

"'The Book of Hexes'?"

Lily smiled and looked up at him for the first time. "Oh Harry, to have a simple mind such as yours would be bliss."

Harry managed to purse his lips into a half smile.

"Are you finished?' asked Hermione, pushing Ron away from her. 'Did you translate it all?"

"Yes, Hermione, Malfoy managed to translate the strange language that Voldemort probably made up when he was drunk.' Said Harry flatly.

Ron winced, as though hurt. "Your sarcasm wounds me sometimes, you know that?"

"There's no need to snap.' Said Hermione, frowning. 'I was just asking."

"Well, if you want it done so much _you_ do it." Said Harry roughly.

"I _tried_!' said Hermione. 'Don't you think I wouldn't still be up there with it if it hadn't been taken off me? You think I want _Malfoy_ looking at it?"

Harry opened his mouth to shout back, but he looked at his mother who had caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. She was giving him a very angry look, her green eyes narrowed and her jaw set. It was that warning, 'knock it off' look, and Harry instantly deflated.

"Sorry.' He mumbled to Hermione.

"Remus took it off me days ago and I haven't been able to get my hands on it since.' Said Hermione irritably. 'I only had it for an hour, and honestly, who can possibly hope to decipher a language unknown to all of us in under an hour?"

"If she can't do it,' said Ron, jerking a thumb at Hermione, 'no-one can."

Harry humored himself with an image of Ron in a cheerleader's uniform, waving pom-poms and cheering Hermione and her intellect on.

"What's wrong with you anyway?' asked Ron, jolting Harry out of his thoughts. 'You were all smiles just now."

"I…er…"

"Its Draco, isn't it.' Said Tonks.

It wasn't a question. Harry looked over at her and saw her giving him a knowing smile.

"He can be very exhausting to be around for any long period of time.' Said Tonks. 'I honestly don't know how he's managed to maintain friends for so long…'

"Or how he even got them in the first place.' Muttered Ron.

"Is he being an idiot again?' asked Tonks, ignoring Ron.

Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek, no answering right away. He sighed and shook his head. "He's not saying anything I don't already know."

"Do you want me to go have a word with him?"

"No.' said Harry indignantly.

"You want me to?" asked Lily.

"_No_!" cried Harry again. Tonks was bad enough, but his _mother_… 'I don't need any of you to go talk to him for me! There's nothing to talk about!"

Harry was saved more words of pity from Tonks by Remus, Kinglsey and Moody walking in, in the middle of a serious conversation.

"…need to watch who we send out, or we won't be getting anyone back.' Kingsley was saying, his deep voice filling the awkward silence he had unknowingly walked into. 'The general community is terrified enough as it is, and we can not expect every day common witches and wizards to leap into a war when all they really want is to keep their families safe and our of harm's way."

"That might perhaps be enough incentive for them.' Said Remus softly.

"Not ruddy likely.' Grumbled Moody, limping in front. 'Kingsley's right, the people are too scared of even their own shadow's now adays. Any hope we have of obtaining mass amounts of people in short amounts of time…'

"I thought you weren't thinking seriously about that mass recruitment.' Said Lily, frowning up at them.

"We weren't, but it seems to be putting the pressure on us either way.' Said Kingsley. 'Every day You-know-who…"

"_Voldemort_,' Growled Harry under his breath.

Everyone went still for a moment.

Kingsley cleared his throat and continued. "Everyday… _he_ seems to be recruiting more and more people into his ranks. They are scared for themselves and their families, and he promises them amnesty if they join him."

"Cowards.' Muttered Moody.

"Their situations are understandable, Alastor.' Said Lily. 'They only want what's best for their families, and they see this as their only option. Don't stand there and begrudge people for their actions when you have never been in the situation yourself. Do you think James and I were cowards for going into hiding?"

Another awkward pause. Moody actually looked embarrassed. Lily didn't look mad, only watched him calmly, waiting for an answer. Harry glared at him, daring him to call his parents cowards to his face.

"Well, no, certainly not.' Said Moody. 'You and James… your situation was different! He was after the three of you on a personal level, and the risk was much higher…"

"Are you saying those people don't matter because their kids aren't 'the chosen one's'?' snapped Harry.

"Of course I'm not, laddie! To think I would _say_ such a thing…"

"It's alright, Alastor.' Said Lily softly. She put a hand on Harry's arm, gave him a look and in a low tone said, 'That's enough."

Harry folded his arms over his chest and glared at the floor. He was furious and he didn't know why. He knew he shouldn't be biting everyone's head off. He didn't know why he was so quick to anger all of a sudden. Only ten minutes ago he had been laughing his head off, and now he wanted to throw something. Maybe he needed to get out of the house for a while. Maybe he needed to be upstairs, getting this Horcrux hunt over and done with and out of his mind. He didn't know what he needed.

"Why are you three up here anyway?' asked Tonks, rubbing the outside of Remus's thigh, 'is the meeting over?"

"No, we came up here for whiskey.' Said Moody, limping his way out of the room.

"I came to make sure he didn't go back downstairs intoxicated.' Smiled Kingsley, following the older Auror out of the room.

"And I came to get this off you.' Said Remus, walking over to Lily and snatching the book out of her hand.

"Hey!' she cried, trying to kick him.

"Lillian, I know your vocabulary is limited, but do you really need to resort of physical violence to communicate with me?' sighed Remus, flipping through the pages of _Hexes, Hexes, Hexes._

"James used to snatch books out of my hands all the time,' she said, smirking up at him, 'I would have thought you, of all people, would know better."

"You share a room with someone for seven years, you tend to pick up a few of their habits.' Said Remus casually, 'and thank heavens Sirius tendency to talk in his sleep about his Great Aunt's and their hairy lips attacking him was not one of them. Dora, are you ready to come join us yet?"

Tonks shook her head. "No thanks, I've had enough bad news and moping faces for one week. You can lend me the minutes tonight."

"I'm not taking the minutes." Said Remus.

"Well _start_ taking them! Isn't that what you do, Remus? Take notes?"

"No. Shant.' He said, looking back around to see Lily laughing quietly to herself.

And then his eyes landed on Harry.

Harry didn't need to look up to know Remus was watching him. He could see the older man's legs in his peripheral vision, and didn't want to look up and have eye contact. They had shared only a few terse words since the day Harry had shouted at him, and Harry didn't even know how to start to apologize. Remus had not brought the topic up, although a few times Harry thought he had seen him almost bursting to say something. He heard Lily clear her throat meaningfully as she nudged his knee with hers, but he ignored her.

And so, like to many times this week, Remus gave the top of Harry's head one long look, before turning and leaving the room. Harry only relaxed after he heard the sound of the dining room door close.

Lily sighed and slapped her hands on her knees. "Well, I think I've had enough long awkward silences for one afternoon. I'm going to get myself some juice. Anyone want anything?"

After Ron's demands for half the contents of the cupboard, Lily left, leaving another long silence in her wake. Harry shrank further into the sofa and stared at the frayed laces of his sneakers. Hermione and Ron were talking in hushed tones once again, giggling every once in a while. Tonks was still methodically going through her amulets, checking all of them over with a sharp eye. Harry didn't look at any of them. He wanted to talk to them, yet at the same time he didn't. He wanted to have company, yet he wanted to be alone. He felt very confused; he didn't know what he wanted. So he took a deep breath, tried to calm himself down and let things flow out of his control.

And then Draco walked into the room.

Harry, who had actually began to relax, tensed up once again as he watched the blonde walk straight over to Tonks and sit himself down next to her – _right_ next to her. There was practically no space between them as they just sat together, shoulders leaning up against each other almost without realizing. Draco said something to her softly, Tonks smiled and hit him in the arm, and Draco didn't grumble but only smirked.

Harry felt himself feeling very confused as he watched the two cousins. Draco could have sat anywhere in the entire room, but he had chosen immediately, almost without thinking, to go sit next to Tonks. Maybe it was because she was the only one in the room who didn't hate his guts. Maybe it was because he wanted something.

Or maybe he actually liked being around Tonks.

It was odd. Harry had always been under the impression that Draco really didn't like Tonks; that his relationship with her was purely out of necessity. Perhaps that's the way it had been to begin with, but it didn't seem like that now. Draco was different around her than anyone else. He was calm and easy and, dare Harry think it, almost happy. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd think that Draco _cared_ about her. But that was a ridiculous assumption. Draco didn't care about anyone, did he?

As if sensing eyes on him, Draco looked around at Harry. His grey eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then narrowed almost protectively. Harry blinked, realizing that Draco probably thought Harry was thinking negatively toward him and Tonks. Harry suddenly felt very uncomfortable and nosy.

The next thing he knew, he was getting to his feet, walking out of the room, and finding himself in the parlor with his mother.

She was crouched down, hanging onto the handles of the cupboard door as she examined the contents within. The parlor had been equipped with its own small food cupboard and ice-box for those long nights when people would find themselves holed up in the room and not want to walk all the way downstairs to the kitchen. There was an Order meeting happening in the dining room at that time, and Lily had obviously not wanted to disturb them. By rights, she probably should have been in that meeting – they both should have. But neither had had any desire to sit around a table and discuss tactics anymore, or how dismally they were becoming outnumbered, or talk about a hundred other equally depressing things to do with the war.

Harry stood in the doorway, not announcing his presence as she reached into the cupboard, pulled out sandwich fixtures and stood up again.

He was surprised when she looked around at him, apparently unsurprised by his presence.

"I probably could have just conjured these, you know,' she chuckled, making her way over to the coffee table, 'but old habits die hard, I suppose. You grow up like a muggle; it's a hard thing to shake. But I don't suppose I need to tell you that."

Harry said nothing, just sat down next to her.

Lily flicked hair out of her eyes with a jerk of her head and began making Ron's sandwich. "So, do you want to talk about what's bothering you? Or would you rather stew on it?"

"Nothing's bothering me.'

"Oh, no, of course not. How silly of me.' said Lily flatly. 'It's not like you have millions of people's lives depending on you."

"Thanks for reminding me, I'd forgotten that so easily.' Said Harry sarcastically.

Lily looked around at him and paused. "You look tired."

Harry took his glasses off, tossed them onto the coffee table and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "I _am_ tired. I feel like I could go to sleep for the next fifty years and still wake up exhausted."

She frowned in sympathy, reached out and smoothed his hair. Without thinking he leant into her touch, and she gently brought his head down to her shoulder. Harry almost collapsed against her and let his eyes fall closed. He inhaled deeply and let it back out again slowly.

Lily hugged his shoulders, trying to draw the exhaustion out of him and take it on herself. "I know how badly you want this over with, this Horcrux business… but it takes _time_. Voldemort wrote those plans with the intention of no-one else ever being able to read them except for himself. We're going to figure it out, Harry; we just need to be patient."

"I don't have time.' Muttered Harry, his words slurring. 'You heard Kingsley and Moody, Voldermort's recruiting more and more people every day! And he'll keep getting more because they're too scared. They're too scared to fight him, that's why they have me. But even they don't think I can do it."

"That is not true.' She said firmly.

"Yes it is.' Laughed Harry softly, almost snuggling into the crook of her neck. 'They know I can't do it. They know I have no chance. And they're right! What chance do I have? I'm just some kid waving a wand around hoping he'll hit something."

"Don't you even dare think about yourself like that.' Said Lily. She made him sit up, and took his face in his hands. 'You listen to me. I'm your mother, and I know who you are. You're brave, and loyal, and kind, and compassionate, and strong, and more powerful that you give yourself credit for. They don't know you like we do; like _I_ do. You're not just some symbol to me – you're Harry. My baby boy, Harry. And I _know_ you can do this."

Harry blinked a few times. "You do?"

Lily smiled. "You can do anything."

"Even kill?"

She frowned, but said nothing. She brought his head forward and rested her forehead against his, letting her eyes fall shut. Harry felt his body shiver at the proximity; it was still a fairly new experience just to be touched affectionately, especially by his own mother.

Lily smoothed his hair back. "You're dwelling, it's not healthy. Go upstairs and help Draco with those schematics."

Harry groaned and pulled away. "Do I _have_ to?"

"Yes, you do."

"But _why_?"

"Because I said so."

"But I don't _like_ him.' Whined Harry, slouching. 'He's rude and he makes bad jokes and he has stupid hair."

Lily smiled and gave Harry his glasses. "Don't make me ground you, mister."

"Can't I just save the world tomorrow?"

"Well, I supposed you could and go talk to Remus instead."

Harry bit his lip. "What was that first one again?"

"Go!"

Harry let out a loud, dramatic sigh, put his glasses back on, slowly pulled himself to his feet and walked out of the room, heavily dragging his feet.

Lily looked at the doorway long after he had left.

------------------

"Look at this,' said Draco, tapping the paper with the end of his quill, '_skeplephbah_!"

"That is _not_ what it says.' Said Harry, peering at the word.

"I sincerely hope not! I don't think '_skeplephbah' _is even a word!"

"Of course its' not a word, you twat!' snapped Harry, sitting up to look at it properly. 'It says 'quarter'. Can't you _read_?"

Draco frowned, looked down at the maps, and then back up at Harry. "Are you serious?"

Harry gave him a look. "No, I like to joke about the things that can help me kill Voldemort."

"What does the whole thing say?' asked Draco, turning the page toward Harry.

"'A quarter of a mile left until the next juncture'.' Said Harry flatly. 'What is wrong with all of you? This is in plain English!"

But Draco didn't even seem to hear him. He was looking at Harry, then down at the maps, then back up at Harry in quick succession, his expression one of confusion. Harry was seriously beginning to think everyone had lost their minds.

"Are you telling me I've spent the past two days trying to translate this gibberish and you can already read it?' said Draco, astounded.

Harry shrugged.

Draco got to his feet. "_GRANGER_!"

A few seconds later Hermione ran into the room looking very harassed, her hair wild as if she'd just ran her hands through it a dozen times on her way upstairs.

"What? What is it?' she breathed, her chest heaving. 'Have you translated it?"

"No, Potter did.' Said Draco gloomily, folding his arms over his chest.

"There's nothing to translate!' said Harry.

Hermione frowned at him. "What are you talking about? It's in an entirely different language!"

Harry pursed his lips impatiently, snatched up one of the maps and began to read, 'Sewerage lines run for one hundred miles underneath the ground. Half a mile to the left lie the _st_-…er, _str_-…'

"Would you like a vowel?' asked Draco impatiently.

"'_Strigoi'_…pronounced Harry slowly, giving Draco a glare, 'within separate chambers…"

"Are you really reading that?' asked Hermione, astounded.

"Of course he is,' said Draco, snatching the paper out of Harry's hands and handing it to Hermione, 'he's not intelligent enough to pronounce it properly, let alone make up the word '_Strigoi'_."

"What are you all on about? Seriously.' Said Harry, feeling confused and irritable.

Hermione didn't answer. She frowned down at the map in her hand and began pacing. She was mouthing words to herself silently, looking from the paper in her hands, to the other papers on the desk, back and forth every few seconds.

"A language none of us… yes, but if… he couldn't have…'

Draco quirked an eyebrow and watched as Hermione paced back and forth in front of him. "Is she always like this?"

Harry nodded with a small smile.

"I couldn't be… but it has to be… if only Harry can… yes, of _course_!' said Hermione finally, whirling around. 'I know what this is now!"

"Yeah, it's _English_.' Said Harry.

"No,' said Hermione, shaking her head, 'it's _Parseltongue_."

Harry's eyes widened.

"_What_?' cried Draco. 'No, that's impossible! Parseltongue isn't a written language!"

"No, it isn't. But think about it! None of us can read it, only Harry. Voldemort… oh honestly, Malfoy, get a grip!' snapped Hermione irritably, '... _Voldemort_ wanted to make sure no-one but him would be able to read these, and what better way than to have them written in a language no-one but you could understand?"

"But it _isn't_ written!' said Draco again. 'No-one has ever been able to write down Parseltongue! No-one has ever tried! There have been too few able to speak it, and none of them were foolish enough to try and transcribe it."

"No, I don't think he did either.' Said Hermione thoughtfully. 'Perhaps… if he had charmed them so that only a person who could speak Parseltongue could read them…"

Harry hit Draco in the arm.

"Ow!' cried Draco. 'What on earth was _that_ for?"

"If you had let me look at them sooner we could have gotten that sodding Cup by now!" snapped Harry.

"I wasn't the only one!' retorted Draco, shoving him. 'Granger had them, _and_ Lupin _and_ half of England…"

"Will you two _stop_ it?' snapped Hermione, stepping in-between the two boys as Harry raised his fist. 'Harry, I need you to focus here. You're the only one who can read these, so you need to translate them for the rest of us."

Harry frowned. "Can't you just, I don't know, break the charm or something?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. "Always trying to get out of work. Look, I'm going downstairs to tell everyone. Wait here, and try not to kill one another."

"You're _welcome_!' called Draco after Hermione had left the room. He looked at Harry and folded his arms over his chest. 'Do you want me to help?"

Harry looked at him and blinked, determinedly sure he had heard him wrong. "What?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't make me say that again."

"You still want to help?"

"It's what I've been doing for the past week, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but…"

"Look, Potter, sitting in this room with you is not the highlight of my life.' Said Draco impatiently. 'But I can be useful because, honestly, I've got nothing better to do. You can make use of me if you want."

Harry pursed his lips. "Well… I guess I could dictate…"

Draco groaned. "Your greatest wish – dictating to me."

"No, that's yours."

"Oh yes, that's true."

-----------------

Harry stared up at the ceiling with blurry eyes, his hands linked behind his head and his glasses on the bedside table beside him. It was the dead of night and the house was silent, everyone having retired to their various quarters hours ago in hopes for a much needed good night's sleep. Harry had taken himself up to bed like the rest of them, but he had known there was no chance he was going to get any sleep that night, not with all that he had found out.

Various images kept flashing in front of his mind's eye. The maps, the words that only he could read which were apparently just squiggles and gibberish for everyone else, Hufflepuff's cup hidden in some secret chamber with curses, or hexes, or a big ball like in Indiana Jones, or crazy pregnant women protecting it…

No, that was ridiculous. The giant ball was overkill.

He couldn't take his mind off it. The vision of the Cup danced in front of him tauntingly, mocking Harry's inability to reach it. Wave after wave of frustration and impatience washed over him so much he couldn't lay still. He didn't want to be in bed. He didn't want to try and sleep. He wanted to get that Cup and blast it into a million pieces.

After the good hour and a half it had taken Harry to translate the words for Draco who, with every complain and snarky remark imaginable, had been writing down what Harry had been saying, they had gathered with Ron, Hermione, Lily, Tonks and Remus and discussed their plan. The plan had been simple enough – bide their time, research, infiltrate, recover.

And Harry was fine with it, except for the 'biding time' concept.

He didn't want to wait. He didn't want to spend another week researching. He wanted to go _now_.

Harry blinked as an idea occurred to him: Why _couldn't_ he go now? What reason was there? He knew where it was, he knew the apparition co-ordinates… what possible reason was there for lying in bed doing nothing, when he could be out there getting this done?

Without another thought, he leapt up out of bed, put his glasses on and grabbed his wand. He didn't care if Ron and Hermione were asleep, or if they were lying in bed together doing thing he didn't want to think about… he was going now.

And he was halfway out the door, however, when he stopped in his tracks.

His first instinct was to go to Hermione and Ron; it always had been. He wanted to take them with him, but at the same time he didn't. He wanted them there because they were his friends, and he liked having them around him practically all the time. But he didn't want to take them because what he was about to do was dangerous, and he didn't want to put either of them in harms way. But he was stronger with them.

Harry pursed his lips, drew himself up and walked out into the hall, headed up to Ron's room. Hermione had gone home earlier that evening, and if Harry was going to go get her in the middle of the night, he was sure Ron would want to be a part of it.

But when Harry got to Ron's room and pushed the door inward, he saw that going to Hermione's would be quite unnecessary.

The room was dark, but the light from the hallway sent a line of yellow light into the room straight onto Ron's bed. The red-head was fast asleep, sprawled on his back with his mouth was wide open. He was snoring slightly.

And lying up against him was Hermione.

He was mildly surprised to her there; he thought she had gone home hours ago. She was curled into him, half lying on top of him. Her arm around his middle, her leg hooked through his and her head was using Ron's upper bicep as a pillow. Her wild bushy hair was covering his shoulder like some sort of miniature throw rug. She was sleeping soundly, her shoulders rising and falling evenly. Where Ron was a loud sleeper, Hermione was quiet. It was amazing he didn't wake her up.

Harry felt suddenly very rude and intrusive. This was a quiet, intimate moment between not just two friends, but two lovers. He adverted his eyes and quietly shut the door again.

He leant against the door and closed his eyes. He couldn't disturb them. It was cruel to even want to. They deserved their few hours of peace together, and Harry was rather thankful that he had a reason now to leave them behind and keep them safe.

Harry ran his hands through his hair and sighed. Now what was he going to do? He would have gone on alone, but what if he needed a second person like last time, when he and Dumbledore had gone after the locket? He loathed having to take someone in the middle of the night, but he would have to if he wanted to go then and there. But who would he take?

Harry's eyes flew open.

Without a second's hesitation he marched off down the hallway, went up a flight of stairs and walked straight into the second room on the left, not even bothering to knock as he entered.

He kicked the end of the bed. "Malfoy!'

Draco, who had been lying on his side facing away from Harry, did not wake but simply rolled over onto his back.

Harry rolled his eyes and bobbed down beside the bed. "Malfoy, wake up. _Malfoy_?"

The blonde continued to sleep silently.

Loosing his patience, Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and jabbed Draco sharply in the side.

"I'm drowning in footwear!' cried Draco, sitting up suddenly. He looked around in alarm, confused for a moment, when he finally spotted Harry bobbed down beside him. '_Potter_? What in Hades name are you doing in my room?"

"Get up.' said Harry sharply, getting to his feet.

"What for? The sun isn't even up yet! What an ungodly hour to be…'

"Will you stop talking and just get dressed!' snapped Harry, throwing Draco his clothes. 'I don't have time for your bollocks."

"What's going on? Are we under attack? Where are we going?' asked Draco, rubbing his face. 'And why do they not accept brown plaid, second hand pajamas as their dress code?"

Harry wanted to say 'because they have taste', but said nothing, just gripped his wand tightly in his hand and glared at the floor.

Draco frowned and sat up a little more, realization setting in. "Potter, do _not_ tell me…"

"You said you wanted to help? That I could make use of you? This is your chance.' Said Harry flatly.

"It's the middle of the night, you mentally challenged berk!' snapped Draco. 'You should be in bed having horrific dreams about the Dark Lord, or death and mayhem, or impotency... not gallivanting off after Horcruxes! Besides, you all came to the agreement that you would wait."

"I don't have time to wait, Malfoy!'

"You promised your mother."

"I lied.' Said Harry flatly.

Draco arched his eyebrows. 'Deception, Potter? Seems I have misjudged you and your cunning ruthlessness! Are you sure you shouldn't have been in Slytherin with…

"Look, I don't have time for his, Malfoy!' snapped Harry. 'Are you going to come or not?"

"You're not at all prepared for anything that could be there…"

"I don't care."

"You could get yourself killed. Or worse, you could get _me_ killed!"

"I don't care about that either.' Said Harry darkly. 'Look, we know where it is, we have the maps… I don't want to sit around and wait anymore! I want to go now."

Draco frowned up at him. "I don't understand.'

"Well I'd say it in Spanish, but I don't know how to speak it fluently… or at all' Said Harry.

"No, you twit…' snapped Draco, 'why are you taking me?"

Harry frowned. "You mean, you're not going to stop me?"

Draco snorted. "Now why would I want to do a daft thing like that? You want to get yourself killed, go ahead! You're wasting good air. And if you want me to watch then who am I to argue? All I want to know is why, out of everyone, you want _me_ to go with you?"

Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Because I need someone to come with me, and I don't care if you get hurt."

Draco stared up at him for a long moment, before he shrugged. "That's good enough. Get out, I'm getting dressed."

* * *

A/N – There you are, my friends, the next chapter! I have to take this time to pimp out my awesome friend Ashlee's work she did for me! She made a fan trailer for this story and you all must go watch! It's at youtube and is called 'My Sacrifice' by xtreme17nc13. Go watch and congratulate her on an awesome piece of work! 

Please review!


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40! Momentous!

* * *

The first thing Harry noticed when the squeezing sensation of Apparation ceased was the chill of the night air.

It was towards the end of February, and spring was slowly descending upon them, pushing winter mercifully out of the way. Snow was beginning to melt and the sun was having more bite, but the nights still remained bitter and cold and Harry wished that in his haste he had spared a moment to remember a jacket. His t-shirt was not providing the least bit of warmth.

But the frosty breeze was not why he was shivering.

"Merlin's beard, I think my bollocks have shriveled up.'

Harry looked at Draco beside him. The blonde was dancing on tiptoes, rubbing his hands together with his shoulders hunched against the cold. Like Harry, he had not been sensible enough to bring a parka with him. He was wearing a long sleeve blue shirt, a right-side better than just a t-shirt, but he was obviously still freezing. Harry found it hard not to smile at the apparent impact time spent with Tonks was having on Draco's vocabulary.

Draco looked at Harry. "What, haven't yours? It's _freezing_! You're mentally insane, Potter, making me come out here in the middle of the night…"

"You didn't have to come, you know."

Draco said nothing, just glared as if it were Harry's fault it was cold.

Harry took his wand back from Draco and held it carefully in front of him, his eyes canning their surroundings. It was very dark, the only source of light the half-full moon above them and the street lights mere buds of yellow in the distance.

"Are you sure this is the place?' asked Draco, looking around with an upturned lip of disapproval.

"You're the one that apparated us here.' Said Harry. His voice was low, not wanting to echo.

Draco pursed his lips and rubbed his upper arms, fogs of breath filling up the space in front of him. "Why are all these places desolate and dank? You'd think The Dark Lord would have more style than a place like this, being the genius he is. Locations like this just scream 'come and search me, I hold something sinister to undo your ultimate enemy!'"

"Maybe he thought it would be too obvious."

"He was right – as always."

Harry spared only a moment to throw Draco a glare out of the corner of his eye before he continued his survey of his surroundings.

"I mean, honestly, who hides things in a _graveyard_?' continued Draco, talking with a tone as if they were discussing an upcoming Quidditch game. 'I never felt the Dark Lord to be so cliché!"

"He's evil, it's impossible _not_ to be cliché."

"Yes, well, in a place called… where are we?… '_Little Hangleton_'…' read Draco slowly, squinting in the dim light to read the sign nearest to him, 'you would feel a cliché would be redundant. Something big in someplace small…"

Harry ignored Draco. He remained perfectly still, afraid to move. This had been the last place he had ever wanted to return to. It was bad enough he returned there in his nightmares. Each grave was as he remembered. It was silent, dead, with the exception of Harry's feet moving uneasily against the grass and Draco's chatter. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on edge as image after image flashed through his mind, each spot he looked at brining back another memory, another emotion, into sharp focus as if it had been only yesterday. Where he had landed shakily on his feet, the cool handle of the cup still clutched in his hand. Where the Death Eaters had stood in a circle, laughing and taunting. Where Cedric had…

Harry clenched his jaw and looked away. He dared not close his eyes, fearing green would flash and he would be unprepared for it. He wasn't going to be unprepared this time. He was older, wiser, stronger… he would be _ready_.

"…pick another name for such a town. 'Little Hangleton' _indeed_! Was someone trying to make a joke about the mayor and his anatomy? Sounds like something a scorned lover would make up.'

Harry blinked. Draco was still talking.

"I can't imagine anyone living here, let alone the Dark Lord choosing his location above all others to hide something so important.' He finally stopped talking and looked at Harry. 'Is the town really 'little'? Or is it really very large, and was only called 'little' as an ironic joke?"

"Malfoy,' sighed Harry, 'just shut up."

Draco smirked. "Haven't got much of a sense of humor, have you, potter?"

Harry said nothing, just looked away.

Draco pursed his lips and arched his eyebrows. "Well, this is going to be a fun adventure, isn't it! I can tell."

"Be careful what you wish for.' Said Harry softly.

He began walking off and Draco, who was particularly unsettled by graveyards, quickly followed.

"We need to find the entrance." Said Harry.

"I'm right with you… only back here." Said Draco.

"I think we should split up,' said Harry thoughtfully, looking around with narrowed eyes.

"What?' said Draco quickly, jogging into step beside Harry. 'Why?"

"Because we'll cover more ground that way. Besides,' he added with a smirk, 'you're annoying."

Draco huffed. "Oh, _now_ we make jokes! You're quite a sadistic pillock, aren't you, Potter!"

Harry smiled and pointed. "You check over there, I'll be over here."

"Wait a minute!' cried Draco, grabbing Harry's arm as he went to walk off. 'You want me to walk around a cemetery alone? At _night_?"

"What's wrong, Malfoy?' jibed Harry. 'Scared?

Draco straightened up, indignant. "I most certainly am not scared!"

"Then what's your beef, Malfoy?"

"I have no way to defend myself!' he whispered, looking around in alarm. 'Anything could attack me! I'm prime meat, ready for the picking!"

"Don't be so full of yourself.' Said Harry, rolling his eyes. 'You have fists, use them. And don't be afraid to break a nail. You look over there and if you find it, call me over."

Draco looked around hopelessly as Harry began to walk off. "What if someone attacks me?"

Harry stopped and looked around. "Because there are so many people _around_ to attack you."

Draco threw him a glare.

Harry sighed. "If you get into trouble, just give the signal."

"Right, the signal. Excellent.' He nodded, feeling a flash of determination surge through him. Draco watched as Harry began weaving his way slowly between gravestones, looking at each of them in turn before a thought panicked him. 'Potter!"

Harry stopped, took a moment to roll his eyes and sigh. "What now, Malfoy?"

"What exactly _is_ the signal?"

"I'm guessing a lot of loud, girly screaming."

Draco glared at him.

Harry shook his head and continued on his search.

His first instinct was to go right to Riddle's grave. It had been large enough, and there had been monuments and crypts near it – Harry remembered the surroundings well enough; he had analyzed them intensely when he had been tied up, trying to find an escape route. It was proving, however, to be rather more difficult to find that grave again than he had predicted. He'd not realized just how large this graveyard actually was.

Curse Little Hangleton and their attempts at compensation.

It was hard to read the names on the stones, and he was hesitant to light the tip of his wand in case someone spotted them. The darkness was good cover; although Harry was easier to hide than Draco was. Harry's pitch-black hair disappeared into the shadow, but Draco's almost white blonde hair and pale skin reflected the light from the moon like a beacon. It was impossible not to spot him, even from that distance. Harry considered jinxing his hair black from where he was, but he knew Draco would have a pink fit and wake up half the town, so he decided against it.

He went back to his search; his feet heavy like his sneakers were made of lead. His strong desire to find this Cup was winning against the sheer dread of being back in this place, but only just. He was freezing, on edge and nervous, and he wished someone was there with him. Well, someone other than Draco; Draco didn't count. It was quiet, too quiet, and Harry had images of every horror movie he had even been able to see flash before him; of rotting hands bursting up from the ground, making swiping grabs for his ankles, of Werewolves chasing him down and ripping him to shreds, of Zombies tackling him to the ground and eating his brains…

"_AAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH_!"

Harry had whirled around so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. That was the signal. He was already sprinting, headed right for the bouncing illuminated bob of white that was Draco's hair, dancing on the spot.

"_What_?' cried Harry, his wand at the ready. He skidded up beside Draco and looked around in panic. 'What is it? Where are they?"

Draco said nothing, just ducked behind Harry and pointed. Harry looked where he was indicating and rolled his eyes.

"It's just a few maggots, Malfoy,' sighed Harry, 'pull yourself together and grow a pair, would you?"

"Not the _maggots_, you ingrate!' snapped Draco, shoving Harry. 'Look at the _grave_!"

He did. It wasn't any different than the other hundreds. A large rectangle of cement firmly sunken into the ground. The headstone was massive; probably three quarters the size of Harry with the words '_Bartholomew Winston, 1873-1938, Loving father and dear friend_' etched into the stone. The lid of the tomb, however, had a large crack running up the middle of it and the left hand corner nearest to them was chipped and crumbling away.

Harry looked back around at Draco who looked stricken. "So?"

"So? _So_?' he hissed harshly. 'This grave has been disturbed! There are Inferi around here!"

"There are not!"

"There are too!' whispered Draco, looking around nervously. 'Look at the evidence! That grave has been tampered with! There is a dead, rotting corpse around here somewhere… waiting to jump us and skin us alive…"

"And eat our brains and use our intestines for hats…' said Harry.

"Yes! And… excuse me, _what_?"

Harry sighed and looked around at Draco. "Malfoy, look… there is no Inferi waiting to jump out from behind a rock and beat us to death. The grave has a crack in it because of the environment."

Draco frowned. "The environment?"

"Yes. There could have been an earth tremor, or the ground could have shifted over time, or someone could have even cracked it with a pick for a prank.' Said Harry patiently. 'There's a million reasons why this grave, and most of the ones around us, are cracked and shifted."

"One of those reasons could be Inferi.' said Draco.

"One of those reasons could be your shrill girly scream…" he muttered.

"Potter!"

"I didn't say anything!"

"No, Potter, look!"

Harry, who had already begun walking off, turned around again to see Draco looking up to the entrance of a large crypt. It was tall, standing at probably ten feet into the air. There were vines wrapped around pillars of stone and moss and pieces of stone were chipped away from part of the structure. The doors were heavy, lead and bolted shut, held fast with chains and a padlock the size of Harry's fist.

"'_The Montague Family'_.' Draco had dusted dirt from a dull gold plaque near the door. He looked around at Harry. 'Are they a relation of his?"

"Don't know.' Said Harry. He walked right up to the door and placed his hands on it, feeling the cool metal. He looked up, examining the structure for any visible magical booby traps. 'This is where the sewer line comes up, though – or at least that's what the blueprints nicked Hermione from the public library reckon."

Draco looked at him. "How did she get those anyway? Did she steal them?"

Harry smiled. "Sometimes I have to wonder that myself."

Both boys whirled around instantly as a twig snapped somewhere behind them.

Harry grip on his wand tightened, and he suddenly became aware of everything. The smell of nighttime, the hairs on his arm standing up, the building behind him, Draco to his left…

"Think we were followed?' whispered Draco.

Harry said nothing, just narrowed his eyes and tried to see something, _anything_…

And then a cat crept out from behind a gravestone.

Draco sighed in irritation. "Stupid, retched feline! Be gone with you and your sleuthing!"

"Afraid of a cat?' said Harry.

"You wet your knickers too, Potter! Don't sneer!" snapped Draco.

"There's nothing out there but bugs and cats.' Said Harry. He looked out into the graveyard and tightened his grip on his wand. 'Still, I think we should get inside."

"For once, I agree with one of your ridiculous Gryffindor plans.' Said Draco, looking around nervously. 'But how do you know this is the one?"

Harry pointed upward. "Look what's written up there."

Draco frowned, took a few steps back and looked up at the alcove above. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark; he squinted at read out the words:

"_My first, thou water, cures no thirst, my next alone has a soul, and when he lives upon my fist, he then is called my whole_.' he quirked an eyebrow and looked at Harry, who was tapping the locks with his wand. 'It's a riddle."

The final lock fell away and the doors swung inwards.

Harry smiled. "Exactly."

Draco watched him enter, his entire body be swallowed up by the darkness within the crypt. He hesitated and looked around. Compared to the pitch black of the crypt, the outside graveyard looked like it was the middle of the day. But he would rather be with Harry who actually had a wand than outside with the Inferi while he, Draco, did not have a wand.

So, slowly, he pulled himself together and followed Harry into the darkness.

The door slammed heavily, and just as Draco stepped over the threshold the lead hit him in the back and sent him flying down the stone steps with a cry. He put his hands out, ready for the impact of the stone floor, when he collided with something and sent both of them crashing to the floor, followed by the sound of a clatter.

"Ow! Malfoy, _God_…

"Sorry! Er, I mean… _ha_!"

Harry jerked his shoulders harshly, throwing Draco off his back. Draco rolled off him and landed on the hard floor with a grunt. "What are you doing?" he whispered harshly.

Draco dusted himself off and sat up, unable to see anything but black. "The door slammed on me."

"Fine, just be _quiet_."

"_Me_ be quiet? _You_ be quiet!"

"Malfoy put a sock in it!"

Draco scowled and got to his feet, dusting himself off. He didn't even bother to help Harry to his feet.

Harry squinted, trying to see something. Anything. He'd lost grip of his wand and dropped it when Draco had fell on top of him. "Dammit, I've dropped my wand…can you see it?"

"Can you see my ability to care?' came Malfoy's voice somewhere behind him. 'No, probably not, cause it isn't there. Fancy that!"

"Okay, do you want to get attacked with no way for me to protect us?' snapped Harry. 'Because that's what's going to happen if you don't quieten down and help me find my wand!"

Pause.

The next thing Harry heard was rustling beside him and someone muttering, 'damn blasted dark… stupid wand… butter fingers…'

Harry continued to feel around, pushing aside his panic. If he couldn't find his wand he didn't know what he would do. He'd have nothing to protect himself with but a few twigs and Draco as a shield.

He wouldn't hesitate to use Draco in such a way either.

"Ha! _Found_ it! Grovel at my feet, Potter! My powers of detection are inhuman!"

"That's my _hand_, Malfoy."

Another long pause and Harry felt his hand being dropped quickly to the floor. He felt around a little more, feeling more and more frustrated with each passing minute. It couldn't have fallen that far, could it? He frowned, his eyes beginning to adjust to the darkness. He could see different shapes, but nothing distinguishable.

_Come on, where is it?_ He thought furiously. And then another thought came back to him. He placed his hand out, closed his eyes and focused. He'd done it before… maybe if he concentrated…

"_Lumos_,' he said.

"Potter, what are you…"

But Draco didn't finish his sentence, as a beam of light burst from the tip of Harry's wand, just inches from his left knee.

Harry smiled and picked it up, gripping it tightly and resolving not to jiggle it carelessly in his hand ever again. The beam illuminated Draco's face, showing his unabashed astonishment.

"What?' asked Harry.

"You can do _wandless_ magic?' asked Draco.

Harry shrugged and cast the light around the crypt. "Sometimes."

Turning away from Draco's look of amazement, Harry surveyed their surroundings. It was the usual crypt décor; dusty, cobwebs, alters, plaques, iron barred windows and, by all accounts, plain creepy. But none of this was what he was looking for. He ran the light along the walls like some sort of laser scanner until he found it, smack bang in the middle of the wall opposite them.

"There.' Said Harry, pointing.

The two of them walked over to the iron gate cautiously. Harry lowered his beam of light to the floor, not wanting to alert anyone beyond the gate (that hadn't heard them yelling at one another already) of their presence. Harry reached out to grab the handle, but Draco grabbed his wrist.

"I wouldn't touch.' He said.

"And I will open it how? With the power of my mind?'

Draco said nothing, just bent down, picked up a handful of dust and threw it at the door. The tiny granules of dirt did not go through the bars, but instead slammed into a force field; rippling blue at the contact, dissolving the dust into oblivion.

Draco gave Harry a smug look. "Did our trip to Pansy's teach you nothing? You can't just stroll into the private area of a wizard if they do not wish you to."

Harry scowled, irritated that he had not thought of this. "Well, that's bloody fantastic, that is. How are we meant to get in then? There weren't any counter spells on the plans to pull the wards down."

"Maybe there aren't any then.' Said Draco, considering the gate.

Harry blinked, a thought suddenly striking him. "Malfoy, give me your hand."

"What for?"

"Just do it!"

Draco sighed and held his hand out, palm up. "Potter, as wonderful as my manicure is the odds of you achieving the same level of perfection are _YEEOW_!" cried Draco, leaping back. He looked down in horror at the small cut along his palm, blood oozing out.

Without giving him time to complain, Harry grabbed Draco's wrist and pressed his palm up against the gate. The ward shimmered blue once again for a moment and then disappeared.

Harry sighed. "Crude,'

"What in Merlin's name was that?' demanded Draco. He cradled his arm against him like a wounded baby.

"Blood sacrifice,' Said Harry simply. He reached out, his hand pausing just inches from the latch, before he grasped it tightly feeling relief flood through him.

"Why didn't you slice open your own hand then?' snapped Draco.

"I'm worth more than you are.' Said Harry, reciting Dumbledore's words more than arrogantly retorting.

"I beg your pardon?' said Draco. 'Do you have stocks in fifteen business around the globe? Do you have a century's old mansion with twenty bedrooms, ten bathrooms, a ballroom and five dungeons?"

"No, and neither do you anymore.' Said Harry, wrenching the door open. He shone the beacon of light in. 'For your information, I always think I've been wealthier than you anyway. I've had friends who actually give a damn about me. Who care about me… maybe even love me, and who I care just as much about in return."

Draco cringed. "You actually _love_ Weasley and Granger? That's vile."

"Your face is vile."

"My face is worshiped by remote African tribes."

After a quick inspection, Harry stepped quickly through the doorway and found himself standing above a manhole. The metal ladder descended into darkness; Harry held his wand up and shone it down the hole. He could just make out the bottom.

Draco peered down. "This is it?"

Harry didn't look up. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it seems rather a bit simple, don't you think?' said Draco skeptically. 'One little smear of blood and the wards are down? And off you go on your jolly way? This is The Dark Lords most valued possession, and all that he has to protect it is one ward? I mean, if _you_ can get past it, dim-witted as you are, what's to stop other more intelligent people from getting past it?"

Begrudgingly, Harry had to admit that Draco had a valid point. It did seem a little too simple. One ward set up at the door? Did Voldemort really underestimate his enemies so much? Was it another tactic to lure them into a false sense of security? To make them relax? Or was Voldemort really not as worried as Harry had suspected him to be?

_But then_, he thought, _getting that locket had seemed simple enough at the time. Look how that turned out. _

Harry gripped his wand tighter. "I'll go down first."

"No complaints here."

Harry put his wand between his teeth gently, turned around and began to make his way down the ladder. The rungs were rusty and scraped loudly underneath his sneakers as he slowly descended. After a few feet, Draco joined him. The odd angle of the light emitting from Harry's wand sent distorted shadows up the stone walls; plastered with cobwebs, mould and even white scratches from God knows what. Harry didn't want to think about what he would find at the bottom.

At the second last rung he jumped backward, landing skillfully in a small puddle of water. To his left was an archway, and beyond it he could see the relatively wide passageway of the underground sewer line.

A splash, and then a whine drew Harry's attention away momentarily.

"Oh, honestly! Of all the places for there to be a puddle…' groaned Draco, shaking his own sneakers of excess water.

"It's a _sewer_, Malfoy, there's puddles everywhere,' Said Harry flatly.

"Cliché, if you ask me,' said Draco huffily. 'Why can't there be meadows? Or nice springy mattresses that you can jump leisurely from one to the other?"

Choosing to ignore him, Harry and Draco walked through the archway and into the main passage. It was wide enough to fit a small car inside. Black, rusted pipes ran along the walls above their heads. The drip of water was a comforting sound, taking away the foreboding silence that normally made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end. He didn't trust complete silence and the dripping was loud enough to fill it, but quiet enough so that if anything tried to approach, they would hear them.

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the schematics. Holding them up, he tried to get his bearings. "Which way is north?"

Draco looked at him blankly and pointed to the roof.

Harry sighed irritably, shoved the map into Draco's hands and placed his wand in the palm of his hand. '_Point me_,' he said softly.

His wand slowly turned, pointing diagonally left.

"This way,' Said Harry, leading the way.

"This passage goes north-west,' said Draco, looking at the map. Hermione, after Harry's translations, had scribbled out all of the Parseltongue and replaced it with English so that everyone would be able to read it, not just Harry. 'We need to be going North-east. We should go back this way."

"Look at the map again,' said Harry softly, keeping his wand light low on the floor. 'There's a passage turn-off down here. It takes us back around to the east."

Draco threw Harry's back a glare and rolled the map up, clenching it in his fist.

The passage seemed to be going around an endless corner. Harry tried to keep the light of his wand low enough to see and to prevent their shadows from being visible to possible awaiting dangers. He was on edge, every muscle in his body tense, his senses alert and his adrenaline pumping. It was like that tense feeling you got when you closed your eyes, and you knew something was going to hit you but you didn't know when. He said nothing to Draco as the walked softly; he could feel how tense the blonde was without even looking at him.

_Splash_.

"Argh, _disgusting_…"

"Malfoy, _can_ it, will you?' hissed Harry, whirling around.

Draco was hopping on one leg, his left foot elevated and dripping wet with the puddle he had just stepped in. "You get an expensive pair of shoes wet and see if you wont complain.'

"They're a ten year old pair of Nike's."

Draco blinked. "Is that bad? Nymphadora told me they were a fine quality shoe."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, she lied."

Draco gaped at the back of Harry's head as they began walking off. "She what? Why would she lie to me?"

"Probably to shut you up."

"Why would anyone want to do that?"

"Is that a rhetorical question? Cause my fist wants to answer you very badly."

"Who doesn't like to hear me talk?' asked Draco, ignoring Harry. '_I_ like hearing myself talk. It is one of my greatest pleasures. I often have long conversations all by myself and I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying."

Harry clenched his jaw, wishing someone would jump out from behind the corner, belt Draco over the head with a blunt implement, knock him unconscious then disappear again.

"Malfoy, I swear to God if you don't shut up I'm going to put a Silencing Hex on you."

"That's no way to speak to me, you know,' said Draco, falling into step beside him. 'Here I am, taking a great personal risk by trying to help you, and you speak to me like I'm one of your minions."

"I don't have _minions_, I have _friends_!"

"Really? Minions are useful. I highly recommend them."

"And I highly recommend you shut up!' snapped Harry, stopping in his tracks to glare at Draco.

Draco glared back. "You know what? Seven years and you haven't changed one bit."

Harry sighed and continued on his way, regretting his decision to bring Draco. "I can't believe you're trying to make conversation at a time like this."

"It's _true_.' Said Draco, jogging after him. 'The day we met I tried to talk to you… tried to talk _sense_ into you… but you were too wrapped up in your own little world to even notice!"

"Sorry, but when you talk about how people aren't as good as you just because of their parents, or what house they're in, or how much money is in they're bank account I tend to zone out. Just one of my many faults.' Said Harry flatly.

"You don't know the hassles you could have saved yourself by being my friend, Potter.' Said Draco, frowning.

"You don't know the hassles I _did_ save by _not_ being your friend, Malfoy.' Said Harry, giving him a look.

Draco considered him. "Do you ever wonder? How things might have been if you'd shaken my hand that day?"

Harry clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes forward. "All the time."

"You know what, Potter? You're…"

"Quiet."

"No, you're definitely not quiet…"

"No, _be_ quiet!' hissed Harry.

Draco flinched as Harry put an arm across his chest to stop him. The two boys feel quiet and listened intently. Draco didn't have to ask why Harry had suddenly stopped him; on the wall in front of them was a shadow.

And it was moving.

Harry's grip on his wand tightened. The shadow was enormous, but shadows could be misleading. It could have simply been a rat or some other small, harmless creature, but he wasn't going to take that chance.

"Is it the Inferi?' whispered Draco, alarmed.

"There _is_ no Inferi!' hissed Harry. He eyed Draco threateningly. 'Not yet, anyway."

Draco squinted. "I can't make out what it is."

Harry sighed and gathered himself up. "Only one way to find out."

Draco watched, appalled, as Harry slowly began to make his way forward. "Potter, don't be a pillock! We can find another way!' hissed Draco. But Harry ignored him. 'Potter? _Potter_!"

Harry didn't even seem to hear him. His wand was held at the ready, beam of light now extinguished as he slowly crept toward the bend.

Draco let out a huff of annoyance and reluctantly followed.

The bend peeled away, and Harry and Draco hastily pressed themselves up against the wall as the creator of the shadow came into view.

Unfortunately, it was not a rat casting a sinister shadow. It was, in fact, every bit as menacing as its shadow made it out to be. It was the size of a pony, with a lions head, a goat's body with dark fawn fur, and a long, scaly tail resembling that of a dragon. Its back was facing them and it was bent down, tearing the flesh off a particularly large sewer rat.

"Merlin's beard,' whispered Draco, alarm present in his tone.

"What is that?" asked Harry, curiosity temporarily overcoming his fear.

"A Chimaera,' said Draco softly, taking a small step backward.

Harry frowned. "A what?"

Draco gaped at him. "Are you serious? Chimaera's are one of the most vicious animals known to wizard kind! Blood thirsty, very strong, they can ransack and entire village and massacre everyone within an hour if they're in a pack…' he paused and gave Harry a look. 'Hagrid was your friend; I'm surprised you never heard him talk about them."

Harry had to admit that he was too. If it was as vicious as Draco was saying, Hagrid should have been salivating over it.

"We need to find another way,' whispered Draco, pulling the map out of his pocket.

"What are you talking about?' said Harry. 'There's only one. We can take it."

"Did you not hear a word I just said?' snapped Draco. 'Blood thirsty… vicious… entire village… does any of this ring a bell?"

Harry looked back around at the Chimaera. It was growling as it destroyed the rat carcass. They were both twice the size of it, and they had the element of surprise, and they had magic.

"Look, here, we can double back around and take another passage,' whispered Draco, prodding the map enthusiastically. 'We can keep going with our limbs still attached if we just go back around."

"This way is faster."

"This way is _suicide_!' hissed Draco. He grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt and demanded his eye contact. 'Look, I know you have this hero complex of yours, but think about what you're doing! We can go a longer, safer way instead of dealing with this thing! Don't be a git, Potter. Think! We want to get the Horcrux and get out of here, not get into battles with every living thing we see… especially ones with fangs like that!"

Harry pursed his lips. Draco's eyes were wide with fear, and it didn't help alleviate his own. Draco looked just short of having a full-blown panic attack, and the last thing Harry needed was for his extra body to collapse in a useless heap. Harry felt annoyed.

_Stupid Malfoy and his stupid logic_, thought Harry irritably.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Fine, we'll go back."

It seemed that the wall was the only thing preventing Draco from collapsing in relief. He nodded, and the two of them began to edge their way backwards.

"You think maybe you should stun it though?' asked Harry. 'Just in case?"

"If that would be enough I wouldn't have insisted we go back.' Said Draco softly. 'At least it didn't hear us."

_Splash_.

Harry and Draco looked down at the puddle Harry had just walked back into. Their heads whipped around at a snarl, and they found themselves looking in the red, narrowed eyes of the Chimaera now edging toward them, teeth bared and rat carcass long forgotten.

Harry sighed. "Bollocks."

The Chimaera let out a roar, rearing up on his goat hind legs before lunging at them.

Harry grabbed the front of Draco's robes roughly. "_RUN!_"

Draco didn't need telling twice. The two boys ran as fast as they could, the sound of their sneakers slapping against the concrete floors echoed loudly down the tunnel. The Chimaera was surprisingly fast, on their heels after only a few meters. Every muscle in Harry's body was aching already but he pushed himself faster, adrenaline kicking in. Draco was barely keeping up beside him; Harry guessed Draco had never really had to run like this before.

Harry felt something brush past his ankles and he almost lost his footing. He did a little skip in the air and tried weaving, hoping the Chimaera would slip on the damp floor. But it was quick and surprisingly agile, considering its feet, and was edging closer and closer; Harry realized that that would not be able to outrun it.

"_AAARGH_!"

It happened fast. Harry didn't stop running, but instead looked over his shoulder to see Draco sprawled on the ground, face down. In the same instant that Harry had looked around the Chimaera, also hearing Draco's cry, and whipped around and skidded to a halt. But the ground, being as slippery as it was, caused the Chimaera to loose traction, and it went skidding right into Harry, knocking the both of them over in a heap. Harry cried out as the massive torso fell on top of him, scrambling to get to its feet. Harry squirmed and placed to hands on its back, trying to heave it off him, trying to get some distance between them before it took its attention off Draco, still on the ground, and realized what it was lying on top of.

"Potter?' Draco was blinking rapidly, water in his eyes as he got to his hands and knees. 'Potter, I can't see…"

"Malfoy, run!"

"Where are you?"

Harry let out another cry as the struggling Chimaera rolled off him, got to its feet, shook itself off and began edging its way over to Draco. Harry scrambled to his feet. He saw the Chimaera tensed, slowly creeping its way to Draco who was still on his knees, its teeth bared and drool dripping past its lips.

Harry aimed. "_Stupefy_!"

The stream of red hit the Chimaera right in the hind quarters. The Chimaera stopped, inches from Draco, but did not collapse. Instead, it turned around and bared its teeth at Harry, tensing up.

"Bugger shit hell bollocks crap…' muttered Harry, gripping his wand tightly.

The Chimaera pounced, and Harry only just managed to roll out of the way in time. He landed roughly, the wind being knocked out of him. He had no time to recover; the Chimaera was on him instantly, pinning him roughly to the ground. Its nose was inches from his; he could feel its foul breath on his face, its drool dripping onto his cheeks. Harry cried out in fear, trying to breathe but the rotting breath was enough to make him dry reach. He put his hands on the massive shoulders, trying to push it away, keep it from eating his face right off. Its jaws were snapping mere millimeters from him… he couldn't push any harder… there was no room for his legs to kick…

"Hey!"

The Chimaera roared, deafening Harry, and looked around. Draco was standing over it with a broken tree root in his hands, raised above his head ready to strike.

"Get away from him,' sneered Draco. 'If anyone's going to be murdering Potter around here, it's going to be me."

"Malfoy, piss off!' cried Harry, squirming.

The Chimaera didn't move. Its eyes narrowed, and out of no-where its tail swung and hit Draco sharply in the side, sending him crashing to the ground and knocking the wind out of him.

"Dammit, Malfoy!' yelled Harry angrily, trying to shove the Chimaera off him.

Draco got to his hands and knees, gasping for breath. He looked up, damp blonde hair falling into his narrowed grey eyes. "Stupid… ugly…'

Harry watched as, amazingly, Draco pulled himself to his feet. The Chimaera seemed to laugh and swung its tail at Draco again. Ready this time, Draco ducked, hitting the tail with the root as it sailed over his head. The Chimaera pressed harder into Harry's abdomen and swung its tail at Draco again. It hit the side of Draco's head, causing him to stumble but not fall. Draco quickly found his footing as the tail came back for another hit. Draco was angry now, angry for being made a fool of by a dumb animal. He narrowed his eyes, watching the tail as it hovering teasingly in front of him before it swung quickly for him. In an insane, reckless, impulsive move, Draco put his arms out and just as the tail struck him in the chest, wrapped his arms around it. The tail lifted him off his feet but Draco hung on, and in one sharp twist he brought the end of the Chimaera's tail down with a sickening crunch.

The Chimaera howled with pain. Draco dropped to the ground with a grunt, the dislocated tail of the animal swinging madly above him.

"Malfoy, look out!" cried Harry.

But Draco didn't hear him. The Chimaera planted a foot on Harry's chest, turned sharply and leapt off Harry, facing Draco.

Draco held the root out in front of him as the Chimaera paced in front of him, snarling. Draco was gripping the root so tightly his already pale knuckles were white, his grey eyes wide with alarm as he looked the Chimaera right in the eye.

"Potter, now would be a good time for you to do something!" snapped Draco.

Harry was on his feet quickly, but two seconds too late. Without warning, the Chimaera lunged at Draco. The blonde let out a cry and swung the tree root around; hitting the Chimaera hard in the side of the face in the split second it opened its mouth to bite. The Chimaera let out a roar and, disorientated, crashed into Draco sending them hard to the wall.

Instinct took over. Harry ran over and leapt on top of the Chimaera, wrapping his arms around its neck and pulling backwards, hard. Harry could just see through its massive mane, Draco beneath it, kicking and shoving trying to get it off him. The Chimera was growling and roaring loudly, trying to shake Harry off but at the same take a bite out of Draco.

"ARE YOU _INSANE_?' yelled Draco. 'WHY ARE YOU HUGGING IT? KILL THE DAMN _AAARGH_!!"

Harry winced as blood spurted upward, hitting him in the face. He lost his grip on the Chimaera and fell backward, landing hard on his back. He rolled, wiped his face, got to his knees and looked back. Draco's arm had a large gash running up his forearm, blood seeping through his sleeve and down his wrist and hand to the floor. The muscles in his arms were straining and he was letting out a strangled cry of pain and effort as he tried to hold the Chimaera off.

Harry took aim again. "_RELASHIO_!"

The spell hit the Chimaera hard in the side, but the contact did not break this skin. Frustrated, Harry got to his feet as she Chimaera looked around at him. It was long enough for Draco to kick out furiously once more, and the Chimaera, taken off-guard, stumbled backward and rolled.

"I said _kill_ it, not make it angrier!' snarled Draco, cradling his arm.

"Shut the hell up, will you?' snapped Harry, watching as the Chimaera got back to its feet.

It took a step back, regrouping. Its red eyes narrowed, flickering between Draco slumped in a heap, blood oozing steadily from his arm, and Harry, hunched over in pain, dirty and wet, but with his wand raised, ready. It seemed to be weighing up its options.

Draco grunted and shifted forward onto his knees, reaching for the tree root. "Finish it! While it's standing there doing nothing!"

"I don't know how!"

"Avada Kedavra, you nitwit!"

"I won't…"

But what Harry wouldn't, they never got to find out, for the Chimaera leapt toward Harry with a roar. Harry rolled out of the way again, but the Chimaera was too quick and landed on his legs, pinning him to the floor. Harry twisted and aimed at its open mouth, ready to bite, and yelled the first spell that came to mind.

"_SECTUMSEMPRA_!"

There was a flash of light, and Chimaera let out a howl of pain as its jaw was sliced open. Harry flinched against the blood spurting on top of him again, but managed to twist out of its grip. He crawled backwards and aimed again, the Chimaera writhing in pain, its jaw wagging, blood pouring out everywhere…

Harry paused.

"What are you waiting for?' demanded Draco. '_Kill it_!"

Harry clenched his teeth. "I… I don't…"

"Kill it or it kills us!' snapped Draco.

The Chimaera was howling now, wiping its jaw with its hooves, its dislocated tail swinging madly. Harry's arm was shaking.

"_DO IT_!" cried Draco.

"_Avada_…"

The words died. Harry flinched. It wasn't right. It didn't feel right. The words felt weird in his mouth. Foreign. Evil. He couldn't say them. He _couldn't_.

"Potter, look out!"

The Chimaera had recovered. Harry took a step back in alarm as it started toward him, eyes blazing with fury. Harry tripped and fell backward, landing hard on his backside. He cried out in pain and watched as if in slow motion the Chimaera approached, dripping blood everywhere, its tongue hanging to one side.

He raised his wand and slashed… "_DIFFINDO_!"

There was a sickening sound of blood spurting, then a 'plomp'… then silence.

Harry's eyes were screwed shut, his whole body tensed, ready for the attack that never came. Slowly, he opened one eye, and then another. The Chimaera wasn't on top of him again. He could smell no rancid breath, or see saliva and blood dripping.

"Potter…'

He could hear Draco's voice. He looked around. Draco was still sitting against the wall, his arm cradled against him, but his eyes were wide and looking at something out of Harry's line of vision. Harry looked around and cried out in surprise. The Chimaera's head was turned toward him, its eyes wide and blood still pouring from its mouth.

Its body lay two feet away from its head.

Slowly, Harry sat up and adjusted his glasses. He leant back on the heels of his hands looked down at the decapitated form of the Chimaera, its lifeless body lying in a pool of deep red blood, the end of its tail sticking out at an odd angle.

He looked around at Draco. "You alright?"

Draco blinked and looked at Harry, as if just remembering he was there. "What? Of course I'm not alright! My forearm was made into a midnight snack!"

Harry rolled his eyes and got to his feet. "It could have torn your arm right off. Be lucky it's still attached."

Draco groaned and slowly got to his feet. He leant against the wall and stared down at the body in amazement, then back up at Harry who had come over to him.

"What?' asked Harry.

"You killed it.' Said Draco. 'You _decapitated_ it!"

"I didn't mean to,' muttered Harry. 'I just wanted it to back off."

Draco let out a short laugh of disbelief. "I don't _believe_ you!"

Harry frowned. "Don't tell me you have a problem with that! You were the one telling me to kill the bloody thing!"

Draco shook his head, mouth parted. "You killed a Chimaera, Potter. Do you know how hard those things are to kill?"

"Not very, apparently.' Said Harry, looking around at the creature.

"You've defeated Dragons, Grindelows, Boggarts, Dementors and now a Chimaera!' said Draco. 'Are you really _that_ invincible?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know."

Draco just looked at him, dumbstruck.

Harry cleared his throat, feeling suddenly awkward. "What should we do with it?"

"I vote for leaving as quickly as we can.' Said Draco, pushing himself into a standing position. 'There might be more out there, and they'll smell the blood and come right to us."

"How do you know so much about these things?' asked Harry, suddenly curious.

"My great Grandfather used to breed them.' Said Draco casually.

Harry wasn't sure if he was joking or not.

They threw one last look at the dead Chimaera, feeling a buzz of adrenaline and began on their way slowly and gingerly, still in pain from being knocked around so much.

"I can't believe you cut its head off." Said Draco.

"'Cause I did it on purpose.' Said Harry.

"Accidental or not, it was a very nice job.' Said Draco.

"Wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking hitting it with a tree root, you wanker!"

"Hey, I saved your life. You're forever now in my debt! You must worship at my feet… bring me breakfast… prune my rose hedges…"

"I want so badly to hurt you right now."

"It'll pass."

Every muscle in Harry's body ached as they moved on as quickly as they could, not wanting to be around in case the smell of blood attracted anything else particularly nasty. He took his glasses off and wiped away the blood and grime on the edge of his shirt.

Draco pulled the map out again. It had specks of blood on it and was ripped in one corner, but thankfully still in tact. "There should be another ladder within the next half a mile."

Harry groaned. "Half a mile?"

"Yes, we go down it to the sub-level."

"How big are these sewers?' wondered Harry out loud, looking around.

"As fascinating as it would be to measure, I vote we don't and just press on.' Said Draco. He was flexing his arm, wincing.

Harry watched him. "Do you, er… want me to bandage that up?"

Draco looked at him as if he'd gone mad. "Are you serious?"

"Well, yeah. I don't want you dripping blood everywhere, leaving a trail for other nasty buggers to follow.' Said Harry.

"And here I was thinking you might actually be concerned about me."

"Yeah, well,' said Harry, putting his wand between his teeth, 'rouldn't be da first dime rou've breen wrong. Hold strill."

Draco frowned as Harry took his good arm. "Wait, what are you doing this time? Last time you cut my hand open and…"

_Rrrriiiippp_.

Draco's mouth dropped open, appalled, as Harry ripped off the bottom of Draco's left sleeve. "Potter! What are you…"

"It rill stop the breeding, or at reast soak it up." he said through the wand clutched in his teeth.

Harry took the map out of Draco's hand, slipped it in his own back pocket and wrapped the cloth tightly around Draco's bloody forearm. It was rough and not the best, but it would do for now.

Satisfied, Harry took a step back and took the wand out of his mouth. "There, better?"

Draco just looked at Harry as if he were particularly stupid. "Potter, what is the point of you even _having_ this?' he said, gesturing at Harry's wand.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why didn't you just conjure bandages? Why did you have to decimate my shirt?"

Harry frowned, suddenly feeling dumb. He pulled the map out of his pocket, thrust it back into Draco's hands and began walking off. "I don't know how."

Draco looked after him, stuck in a moment of stunned stupor, before jogging to catch up. "You can decapitate a Chimaera but you can't even conjure bandages? Potter, I never suspected you to be so sadistic and mentally retarded."

"Mum hasn't showed me how to yet.' Muttered Harry.

Harry was sure he heard Draco snigger.

After walking another five minutes in silence, Harry's mind had already begun to wonder. He pictured the Cup, somewhere beneath them, lying inconspicuously in some room with no doubt a million protection wards and God knows what else. He pictured himself returning home, Cup clutched tightly in his hand triumphantly. He pictured Ron, Hermione and his mother sound asleep in their beds and wished for a long moment that he was doing the same. Wished he could have a full nights sleep without interruption from dreams, or visions, or pain or fear.

_As soon as I get this Cup, I'll be one step closer to having that_, he thought determinedly. _We all will_.

"You know,' said Draco suddenly, jolting Harry out of his thoughts, 'not that the decapitation wasn't a fabulous touch, but why didn't you just use The Killing Curse?"

"I didn't want to,' said Harry softly.

"You can decapitate it, but you can't just put it out of its misery quickly?' asked Draco.

Harry frowned at him. "You think using The Killing Curse is an act of _mercy_?"

Draco shrugged. "Sometimes,"

"Well, unlike you, I actually have morals."

"You didn't choose not to do it, you couldn't do it.' Said Draco firmly. 'You hesitated. I saw you."

Harry glared down at his sneakers; it was very hard all of a sudden not to stamp his feet. "I just didn't want to, alright? It was too…' he paused and rubbed the back of his neck. 'It felt wrong. The words, they felt wrong to say. They felt wrong to use."

"They're really not that hard to pronounce, you know.' Said Draco casually. 'Avada Kedavra… no room for stuttering."

"Oh yeah?' snarled Harry. 'Then how come you couldn't say them up in the Astronomy Tower? How come _you_ hesitated?"

Draco looked at Harry, his grey eyes narrowed. "How do you know anything about what happened up there, Potter?"

"Because, Malfoy, I was there!' snapped Harry, coming to a stop. 'Under my Invisibility Cloak! I saw the whole bloody thing! I saw you stand there and gloat to him about all the horrible things you'd been doing that whole year right under his nose. I saw Dumbledore offer you a way out and you throw it back in his face!"

Draco looked openly surprised as Harry's words echoed off the walls. Harry was breathing hard, only just keeping a lid on his anger.

"Then you would know,' said Draco, his tone low and surprisingly calm, 'that it was not me that in fact killed your dear Dumbledore, it was Snape."

"You would've if Snape hadn't've."

Draco laughed unkindly and threw his hand up in the air. "You don't know that. You don't know what I would have done."

"Do you?" challenged Harry.

Draco said nothing.

"It might not have been by your wand,' said Harry furiously, 'but you did kill him."

"Yes,' said Draco with a sad smile, 'yes, I know."

Harry blinked, surprised that he had actually admitted it. That he may actually be beginning to feel guilty about it. Was it just an act? Harry really couldn't tell with Draco.

"Killing an animal is different than killing a human,' said Draco after a long silence. 'I know you know that. What you need to ask yourself is if you can't even kill a Chimaera, when the time comes, how on earth do you think you'll be able to kill The Dark Lord?"

Silence. Harry had no answer to give. It was the question that had been bouncing around his head since he'd stumbled over the words earlier on. It was true. How did he think he was going to eventually kill Voldemort if he couldn't even kill an animal? Would he really ever be strong enough?

"I can do it,' said Harry as they began walking again, 'I have to do it. There's no-one else who can."

"Oh, don't be such a martyr.' Sighed Draco, rolling his eyes. 'There's an entire country out there ready to fight with you."

"I don't want them to."

"Oh, right. That clashes with the 'lone hero' image, doesn't it? Smart move, Potter. Will look smashing for the press."

Harry frowned. "Do you think I _chose_ to be like this? Do you have any idea how lonely it is? How _dangerous_?' he was furious that Draco thought that he had made this all about him and the way defeating Voldemort would make him look. 'I would love to be back home in the living room playing Chess with Ron or chatting about Quidditch or… God, even _studying for school_. But I have to save the world. _Again_. I was chosen. I don't have a choice in this!"

Draco smirked. "Dumbledore told me you always have a choice."

"Yeah,' said Harry, stalking off again, 'he did that."

"Why do you do it then if you don't have to?" asked Draco, falling into step beside Harry once more.

Harry shrugged and sighed. "I just want it over."

"Not for revenge? Virtuous victory? Peace of mind?"

"I don't know…"

"What about friendship and family and all the other things that are priceless like in that credit card commercial?"

"It's all the same thing. Fight the good fight, which ever way you can."

"Tell you what, you fight and I'll keep score."

Harry sighed and folded his arms over his chest. "How much longer until we get to this ladder?"

Draco consulted the map once more and looked around to get his bearings. "It should be just around this bend…"

They proceeded with caution; the memory of what had lay beyond the last corner still fresh in their minds. Thankfully though, this corner was empty. After the initial feeling of relief, Harry noticed a small crevice in the wall. As he got closer, he saw it to be another manhole; two metal ladder handles in the shape of an upside-down U peeking out of it were bolted firm into the concrete. Harry picked up a damp handful of dirt and pitched it at the open cubicle. There was no ward this time and the dirt when flying right through, hitting the wall hard and splattering everywhere.

Harry jerked his wand at the manhole. "Go on then."

"What? I'm not going first! You don't know what's down there!'

"So?"

"So, it's _dangerous_! I could be killed!"

"Exactly."

Draco glared at Harry, rolled the map up roughly, shoved it into his pocket and stormed over to the manhole. Pausing only a moment to flick his hair out of his eyes with an elegant jerk of his head, he sighed, turned around and began to climb down; his grey eyes, full of loathing, glared at Harry until he was completely sunken out of sight.

Harry waited, listening for the creaking sound of the ladder breaking and sending Draco plummeting to the ground. _Hoping_ for the creaking sound of the ladder breaking and sending Draco plummeting to the ground.

"Are you coming with me yet?" Draco's voice rose up out of the hole.

"No, not yet." Said Harry, smirking.

Pause.

"…_Now_?"

"Still not yet."

"Potter, this is your damn crusade! Get down here and bring your wand with you! I think I smell moldy grapefruit!"

Harry sighed, looked around for anyone and then, putting his wand between his teeth, followed Draco's path down the hole.

It was very dark, and Harry wanted badly to light his wand; but it was one again clutched between his teeth as he slowly descended. The walls were damp, the rungs of the ladder were damp, the air was damp… even his bones felt damp. There was a soft, hissing noise, like gas leaking from a pipe somewhere. Harry hoped that whatever they faced next, it would not require him to light a flame. He could hear whispers, lots of whispers, and it reminded him of the voices he could hear from behind the veil. Were there people down there? Was their cover blown?

"Mralwfoy?' he called out.

"Yes, I'm here, you're almost… _ow_!"

Harry laughed. "Shorry, wras that your fashe?"

Draco sighed as Harry dropped down beside him. "Yes, thank you, it so longed to meet your big clumsy foot."

"It's not my fault. I can't see a thing!' he paused. 'Can _smell_ a thing though."

Harry squinted. It wasn't pitch black, but Harry couldn't see more than a foot in front of him. He took a step forward and raised his wand.

"Do you smell that?"

"The rancid smell of rotting flesh?" asked Draco.

"No, the lavender blooms. Of _course_ the rotting smell!"

"Just light your wand so we can see!"

Harry didn't need telling twice. He ignited the beam of light to its maximum capacity, lighting up the small expanse of a room they were in, and the two of them let out a cry of horror at what lay at their feet.

It was a pit of snakes.

There were hundreds of them, different sizes and species. They were like a container of worms, slithering and writhing, hissing and spitting and snapping. The pit was five meters wide, and on the other side was a ledge that led into a hallway that turned out of view. It was at least five meters across and too far to jump. The two boys, who unbeknownst to them had been standing right on the precipice of the pit, practically fell backwards in horror.

"_Snakes_?' wheezed Draco, gripping the ladder tightly.

Harry threw him a look. "You're afraid of snakes? You're a Slytherin! Your entire house is based on a snake!"

"I am not afraid!' snapped Draco defensively. 'But I certainly don't want to sing them lullabies and give them butterfly kisses either."

"Snakes, _really_,' Said Harry, shaking his head. He lifted the wand higher. 'Could he be anymore cliché?"

Draco shivered. "Why does it have to be snakes?"

"Very dangerous,' said Harry. He looked at Draco. 'You go first."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Well, we need to get over there! You can go first."

"_Excuse me, what_?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, it's easy. I'll cut this ladder down; we'll lay it over the pit and climb over."

"That ladder is not big enough."

"What if I enlarge it?"

"Oh great, excellent idea… make the holes even bigger for us to fall through!"

"Well, let's hear _your_ plan then!"

"Please, I don't plan! I scheme!"

Harry threw his hands up in the air. "In other words you don't have one! So just shut up and let me figure this out."

"Why not just grow wings and fly then?' said Draco, every syllable dripping with sarcasm. 'You're Harry Potter, after all. Flying prodigy! Seeker extraordinaire! More skilled that Viktor Krum! Never mind that I've been flying since I was three years old, have had fourteen years experience on the finest broomsticks money can buy while you one had one lesson and you were automatically Merlin's gift to Quidditch…"

But Harry wasn't listening anymore. He was looking at Draco, mouth half open. Draco in his pointless ramble had inadvertently giving Harry an idea.

He aimed his wand right at Draco. "_Wingardium Leviosa_."

Draco cried out as, like someone had attached a large hook to the back of his shirt, he was yanked upward off his feet.

"Potter! What the hell are you _doing_?!"

"Just hold still.' Said Harry, trying to concentrate. Levitating a person was a lot harder than a feather.

Draco did not listen. He squirmed, kicking out with his legs, trying to find something stable to stand on. But it was no use. Harry had him hovering high up in mid-air, and was slowly edging him toward the pit.

Draco's eyes widened like saucers. "Potter! Don't you dare! Put me down this instant!"

"This will work, just trust me!"

"I trust you as far as I can throw you! Put. Me. _Down_!"

"Malfoy, if you don't shut up and stop squirming I am going to drop you!' cried Harry angrily.

Draco instantly went still and silent. He looked down, his feet hovering less that a meter from the snakes below. They were rearing up, trying to bite him, their fangs bared and their eyes narrowed. Draco swallowed back his fear as he floated silent above them, inching slowly toward the safety of the ledge on the other side.

Harry frowned with the effort. He really needed to work on his levitation. It should not have been taking this much out of him; but, then again, he had just faced of against a Chimaera. He was worn out and tired. But he was more determined to see Draco over, so he gripped his wand tighter and willed Draco ever so slowly away from him.

"Tell me when you're right.' Called Harry.

Draco looked down, the ledge so close now. Three feet… two feet…

"Okay, stop!' called Draco.

Harry pushed him over a little bit more, just to be sure, and then broke the connection. Draco dropped and landed clumsily; he stumbled, but remained standing.

Once he had found his footing, he straightened up, brushed himself off with a dignified air and turned to Harry.

"I have been bitten, shoved, tripped, thrown, crushed and now levitated!' He yelled angrily. 'I hope you're happy!

Harry just grinned.

Draco put his hands on his hips. "Now how are _you_ going to get over?"

Harry's grin fell.

"Well… I just… you know, I though I'd…"

Draco quirked an eyebrow.

Harry sighed. "Okay, fine. So I didn't think that far ahead!"

"Another perfect example of the Gryffindor intelligence.' Said Draco, rolling his eyes.

"I'll throw my wand over. You can levitate me."

"Can you even throw this far? You're a seeker for a reason, Potter, not a Chaser."

"What's that meant to mean?'

"It means a three year old girl has more swing than you.'

Harry scowled. He suddenly wished Hermione was there. She would know what to do. She would have a perfect solution ready in a split second. But she wasn't there, Harry had made sure of it, and he would have to figure this one out on his own.

He scratched his head and looked over at Draco, who was watching him impatiently. "Reckon I can levitate myself over?"

Draco sighed and looked to be just holding himself back from hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Potter, go with the simplest solution. It seems that thinking only confuses you."

"What are you on about?"

"It's a pit full of snakes."

"I noticed."

"Have you forgotten that you have the ability to communicate with snakes?"

Harry blinked. Was it really possible to be so stupid?

"I've only ever spoken to one! Never an entire _pit_!"

"Don't be such a ninny! Just think if it as… public speaking."

"I hate public speaking."

Draco glared at him.

Harry sighed and looked back down at the snakes. He was wasting time, and this seemed to be the only way to get over. But he had never spoken to more than one snake at a time before, or ever, and was unsure of how to do it now. It was very hard to focus on them all when they kept moving.

He pursed his lips and knelt down. "Hello?"

They didn't seem to hear him.

Frustrated, he closed his eyes and concentrated. He took a few deep breaths, calmed himself and then opened his eyes. He could hear them properly now. They were whispering again, a hive of conversation like the Great Hall at Hogwarts at dinnertime. When he spoke again, it was in a low hiss.

"_Hello_?"

Thirty of the top snakes stopped their writhing and looked up at him. If they had actual facial expressions, Harry would have guessed theirs would have been ones of surprise.

A cobra reared up, his eyes narrowing. "_Who are you? You are not our massster_."

"_I'm_…' he paused. '_I'm his equal_."

It wasn't a total lie.

"_Our masssster hasss enormousss power,_' snapped a green python impatiently. '_He hasss no equal._" Several snakes nodded in agreement.

"_How else would I be able to talk to you then_?' said Harry, not impolitely. He felt it best not to offend them. '_He gave me this power – the power to speak your language. He marked me as his equal." _

All the snakes had now gone still. Harry could see Draco moving in his peripheral vision, but he didn't dare look up from the snakes. He wanted them to respect him, at least.

After a long moment, Harry began to feel worried. They were just looking at him, their whispered ceased. He felt uneasy being the focus of so many eyes, but pushed it away. Voldemort would command authority among them, and if Harry wanted to survive this without getting poisoned he would too.

Then, as if a ripple, the snakes began to move. Harry watched apprehensively as they almost began to move aside for something. Harry frowned, wondering what it was they were doing when his unasked question was answered.

Its head came first, almost as large as Harry's own. Red eyes, wide and fearless, its neck and body slithered up into view. It was the largest Anaconda Harry had ever seen in his life. It must have been fifteen feet long, but only its top half was visible on top of the pit of snakes that had maneuvered respectfully to grant it access to the surface. But the most striking thing about it beside its sheer size was its colour. Pure white. It was an Albino. Harry pushed aside his fear for a moment, long enough to appreciate its beauty and elegance.

Harry heard Draco collapse to his knees, but ignored him.

The Albino stared down its nose at Harry. "_You_ _ssssmell different than our Lord_.' She hissed.

Harry bowed his head respectfully. "_Sorry, I don't want to interrupt your, er… slithering… but I was just wondering if you would mind moving aside and letting me through._"

She considered him for a long moment. "_Do you know what liesss beyond us_?' she asked.

"_I have a fair idea_."

"_Our massster hasss sssent you_?"

"_He's the reason I'm here, yeah_."

"_He mussst favour you among all otherss_. _To be hisss equal._' She said softly. '_We have never met another who could ssspeak to usss like him before_."

Harry realized she was actually trying to give him a compliment. He pushed his revulsion of being 'favored' aside and kept his expression neutral.

She turned her head and looked around at Draco. "_What of him? What isss hisss buissnesss here?_"

Harry cringed. "_He's with me_."

"_I ssssee_."

"_So… will you let me by?_"

She poked her tongue out, smelling him. "_We are ready to serve you, my Lord_."

Harry flinched. _My Lord?_ He'd never been called that before. It was eerie, and he suddenly wanted to take a very long shower.

The Albino opened his mouth wide and let out a loud hiss. All at once, the snakes began to writher and move and rotate, and slowly but surely they parted like Moses parting the Red Sea. Harry looked down, the base of the pit a lot more shallow that he had expected, only about seven or eight feet deep. They had left a very narrow path, just wide enough for him to pass through if he walked sideways and sucked himself in.

He hesitated. Although they seemed placid now, something about climbing down into the middle of a pit of snakes was still very scary. But his determination won out again, and he put his wand between his teeth, sat down on the edge of the pit, like a child about to jump into a pool, and twisting so he could hold onto the edge, slowly began to ease himself down. He just held his grip, his body now dangling from the edge for dear life; his feet still a meter from the concrete floor. He sighed, tensed and let go of the edge, free-falling the rest of the way. He landed gracefully and looked up, a feeling of foreboding settling over him. Was this really a good idea?

"Potter, hurry up!' cried Draco. He was on his hands and knees, peering over the edge, eyeing the snakes cautiously.

Harry took his wand out of his mouth, turned to the side and began to egde is way across. The whispers were louder now, all of them chatting to each other, most of them talking about him. It was deafening.

_He doessss not look like our Lord… Who isss he?... How doesss he ssspeak to usss?… _

He closed his eyes and continued to move, flinching every time he was whipped with a tail or felt a tongue flicker against the back of his neck.

When his hand hit concrete he opened his eyes and looked up at Draco. "Give me your hand."

Draco's bottom lip quivered. "You want me to stick my _hand_ down there?"

"Unless you want to pull me up with the power of your mind."

Draco sighed and reached down with his good arm. "And I just had my nails filed…"

Harry reached up, standing on tiptoes, but he still couldn't reach. Draco's hand was a good foot away.

"Dammit!' cursed Harry.

"Get the Albino to give you a boost."

"She's a snake, not an escalator!"

"Well, then, tie some of them together and make a rope, I don't know! Just do _something_. I can't reach you!"

Harry looked up at him, then down at his wand. "Malfoy… can I trust you with this?"

Draco blinked. "You want to throw your wand up to me?"

"You can levitate me up, but I don't want to give it you and have you piss off with it."

Draco snorted. "Please. You'd sick all your snakey friends on me and I'd be dead within seconds."

Harry hesitated. Although it had been his idea, he didn't entirely trust Draco not to do something with his wand in his possession. But he saw no other option to getting out of the pit, and time was running short. So he took a step back, paused, and then threw his wand up. Draco caught it one handed with his seeker reflexes and looked at it as if it were a foreign, undiscovered animal.

_Potter just gave me his wand_, he thought, frowning at the wand in his hand. _Potter_. _He gave it to me willingly. What does that mean?_ Harry had never given him his wand without Draco having to practically pry it from his hands, and only then it was because they had to apparate.

"Malfoy? Today would be nice."

"Oh, right. _Wingardium Leviosa_."

Slowly, Harry's feet left the ground and he floated upward. Draco stood up and moved backward, leaving Harry room on the ledge. Harry was out of the pit in moments but he wasn't placed on the ledge, he instead kept rising upward.

He scowled. "Malfoy, I think that's high enough!"

"Are you sure?' asked Draco in mock concern.

"Yes! Put me down!"

"As you wish."

The spell ended, and Harry went plummeting downward fast. He crashed onto the ledge, loosing his balance as his feet went under him and he laded hard on his backside.

Harry glared at Draco as he doubled over in sniggers. "You're a git."

"Paybacks a bitch, Potter, suck it in and deal with it.' Chuckled Draco, tossing Harry his wand.

Getting to his feet, Harry threw Draco one last glare before turning back to the pit of snakes. They had reformed their pit of chaos but were looking up at him expectantly, the massive Albino's head just visible amongst its companions.

Harry smiled. "_Thanks_."

The Albino nodded its head respectfully and sank back into the pit once more.

"Come on,' said Harry, hitting Draco in the arm.

The two of them turned and ran off down the hallway.

--------------

Harry leant up against the wall, panting hard as he tried to regain his breath. "Malfoy, that's enough!"

"Stupid... ugly… pathetic…"

"Malfoy, quit it!"

Draco looked up, his face dripping with sweat, hair sticking to his brow. A metal pipe was raised above his head, ready for another strike. The massive body of a baby Acromantula lay on his back beside him, bloody and legs curled upward. It was a sickening sight, two of its legs chopped off, his stomach split open, spilling blood and guts everywhere and Draco standing there with his pipe, blood dripping from the end of it from him bashing it repeatedly.

"I'm just making sure its dead!"

"Its intestines are all over the floor – it's _dead_."

Draco looked down at the creature and lowered the pipe. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and kicked the giant spider in the side. "That's for ripping my pants."

Harry pushed himself off the wall and, with one last look at the spider, he and Draco continued on their way. The walls around them were crumbling, chunks taken out of them from both misfired spells and the spider. Just like with Aragog, seeing the spider dead did nothing for Harry's sympathy. Maybe it had something to do with it trying to kill him; he wasn't sure.

"Is that the last of them?' snapped Draco, limping as he looked back over his shoulder at the carcass of the spider. 'I think He's put every Dark Creature known to wizard kind in these sewers! First the Chimaera, then the snakes, then that swarm of Doxy's, those blasted Fire Crabs, those Imps and now the Acromantula! What _next_?"

"I don't even want to imagine.' Muttered Harry, looking at the scrapes up his arm.

Both of them looked as though they had run through a prickle bush in the middle of a bog. They were dirty, wet and had bruises and cuts all over them. The Doxy swarm had proven most difficult; Harry had only ever used the repellent to stop them, and they were too small and too fast to try and stun individually. So Harry had tried every spell he knew to repel them while Draco had found a long, metal pipe on the floor and had begun bashing at them – he had not let go of the pipe since. Then the Fire Crabs, which hadn't been too bad, but the bottom of Draco's pants had been burnt off and he now only had a pair of pants that went down to his knees, showing off his pair of very pale legs. Harry too had been burnt, though not badly, and the front of his t-shirt was now ripped open slightly. The Imps that had tripped them over repeatedly, laughing their heads off every time Draco and Harry fell into a puddle, had thankfully not been that hard to ward off. A few sparks from Harry's wand and they had scampered. Harry didn't know how long they'd been down in these tunnels. Hours? Days? Years? He'd lost track of time.

Harry pulled the map out of his pocket. The top corner had been burnt off and there was a long rip along the side, but Harry quickly repaired it and held it up against his wand light.

"It's not that far now.'

"Thank Merlin!" Draco snatched it out of his hands, needing to see the proof.

Harry felt nervous as Draco frowned. "What is it?"

"The Cup is not far now…"

"Thank God!"

"But… '_Half a mile to the left lie the Strigoi'_…' read Draco. 'That's not far away from here now."

"Yeah, so?"

"Do you know what '_Strigoi'_ is?"

Harry shrugged. "Some giant, half-cat, half-budgie thing ready to kill us?"

"I've heard it before somewhere,' said Draco, almost to himself, 'I just can't remember what it means!"

"We'll find out soon enough.' Said Harry, pressing on.

Draco looked at him incredulously. 'You really have no sanity left, do you!"

Harry looked insulted. "I think I have a right-side more sanity that you, thanks very much. Throwing rocks at an Acromantula? You're a complete idiot."

"_Strigoi_ could be extremely dangerous, and you want to go walking right into it?"

"Well, I'd rollerblade, but…"

"You really do have a death wish, don't you.' Said Draco, not sounding at all surprised. 'You have no regard for your own safety or your own life."

Harry looked at him with a frown. "Why do you care? Isn't that your greatest wish? To see me dead?"

Draco opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to answer. "I… well, I… its just… I _don't_ care!' he snapped. 'I couldn't give a stuff about you, Potter. But you're the key to this war being over. I don't know in what ridiculous way it could be, but you are. We have a mutual goal, and I'm willing to wait until this war is over to plot the many painful ways I will bring about your imminent death."

"But you think I'm wasting my time."

"You are! But you don't care. You'll just keep going, no matter what I tell you. You're stubbornly refusing to give in and just accept defeat – you're determined to do the right thing."

Harry looked at him and smirked. "There will come a moment _you_ will have to do the right thing, you know."

"I love those moments,' smiled Draco, 'I like to wave at them as they pass by."

"You're pathetic. You'd rather hide than fight.' Said Harry. 'You'd rather live a coward than die a hero."

"I don't want to be a hero.' Said Draco, as if he could smell something particularly foul. 'That's _your_ department, Potter. And quite frankly, I have no quibbles about you dying for a cause so the rest of is can live – its perfectly fine by me, I fully support it. I see you skulking around the house like your owl's just died. You're miserable; everyone can see it. I just don't understand why you continue to put yourself through it. Not that I don't love seeing you depressed, it makes my day brighter; I just don't understand why any sane person would deliberately do it to themselves when they could be happier."

"Is that what you are?' asked Harry. 'Are you happy?"

Draco snorted. "I live with my Metamorphmagus cousin, live in werewolf hand-me-downs and can't perform any magic. Sure, Potter, I'm _ecstatic_."

Harry rubbed his arms as if cold. "The only thing standing between me and total happiness is reality." He thought of Ginny, and his heart ached suddenly with a fiery intensity. He pushed it away.

"I still don't understand you.' Said Draco resigned. 'I don't think I ever will and, quite frankly, I don't think I want to. Your strange Gryffindor ways confuse me. _I_ had the right plan."

"Running and hiding?"

"Exactly."

"See, that's the thing. I don't want to run. I don't know how to.' Said Harry. 'That's what separates us. That's why we despise each other so much."

"You mean, besides you being insanely jealous of my good looks?"

"And aside of you being a prejudice, shallow, git-faced snobby bigot,' snapped Harry, 'I've just got a different way of dealing with things than you do. Your focus was on not dying. Self-preservation. That's how you looked at it. But it's not how I'm looking at it,' he paused, a determined expression appearing on his grimy face. "I'm not looking at this situation as a matter of not dying. I'm looking at this situation as a matter of staying alive."

"Again,' said Draco pompously, 'far too much effort. You'd stay alive if you just stepped back. Cant you see you're fighting a war you've already lost?"

"Yeah,' sniffed Harry, amused, 'I'm known for that."

"Think about what you're really fighting for,' said Draco softly. 'A bunch of Mud-… er, Muggleborns. Why are they worth it so much? Why would you want to kill your own kind to make sure they have a place in a world they weren't inherited from?"

"Because they're no different than a Pureblood.' Said Harry shortly. 'Everyone deserves equal rights, Malfoy. Look at Hermione! She's the best in our year, and probably the entire school, and she doesn't have magical parents. She's brilliant, and great, and powerful, and she like all the other Muggleborns have every right to be called 'Wizard' like the Purebloods. It doesn't matter who your parents are, it only matters who you are… and Hermione is a witch. And Dean is a Wizard. And so is Colin and Denis, and Justin Finch-Fletchley, and every other Muggleborn out there. You're no better than them, Malfoy, and they're not worth less than you."

Draco just looked at him for a long moment, a pensive frown etched into his forehead. "Are you willing to die for that belief?"

"Yes,' said Harry without hesitation, '…I am."

Draco still looked pensive.

"Look, I don't care if you understand or not,' said Harry, looking around as they continued to walk, 'I don't really expect you to. Your whole life you've been taught that Muggleborns have no right in our world… that they're dirty and inferior… but I'm telling you that you've been hoodwinked. This is bigger than hate or prejudice or house rivalries or any of that stuff… this is people's _lives_ we're dealing with here. They have a right to live, Malfoy. They have a right to life. They have as much right as you and I do, and I'm determined to make sure that they get that right.

'I don't care if I'm wasting my time, and I don't care if he's more powerful than me, or if he's more skilled than me, or if he knows more spells than me… I will fight him. He killed my mother because of what she was; he killed my father because he supported her and didn't care what she was. He's a monster who has no right to dictate to people what's considered 'right' or 'pure' or 'acceptable', and I'm going to do everything I can to take that power away from him. You think I can't defeat him? I'm sure you're not the only one. He thinks I can't defeat him? Good. That's how I want it. The way the world underestimates me will be my greatest weapon. The war's just starting, and I have the greatest advantage; He thinks I'm weak. But I'm not, and when the time is right I'll show him just how wrong he is."

Harry's words echoed around Draco's head. Harry didn't care if he was still listening or not. He could feel Draco's eyes on him but didn't dare look at him. It felt odd to open up to Draco, of all people, but at the same time it seemed to make sense. Ron and Hermione were too close to him to actually listen to what he was saying. He needed someone objective, someone elusive, and Draco was the perfect person for that.

Finally Draco spoke. "You're a daft idiot, Potter – plain and simple. This war has been going on for centuries, in many different cultures and in many different ways. Do you really think that _you_ can put an end to it all?"

"I don't know,' he said softly. Harry shook his head with a smile and threw Draco a look. "At least I try.'

Draco sniffed. "Well, as long as you're trying to be good you can do whatever you want."

"And as long as you're trying not to you can say whatever _you_ want?' retorted Harry.

"Exactly! Between us we can do anything! We can rule the world!"

Harry snorted. "I don't have a total disregard. I take risks, and sometimes people die, but I think not taking the risk causes more people to die – so I guess my biggest problem is I've been cursed with the ability to do the math."

Draco pursed his lips. "Sounds like an awful lot of unnecessary pain if you ask me."

"For my friends and family… it's worth it."

"How tragically disgusting."

"You telling me you wouldn't do the same for yours?"

Draco shrugged and said nothing. Unlike Harry's spill back there, he didn't want to get mushy and sentimental, least of all with Harry.

Harry frowned. "Sometimes I wish I'd never met you, Malfoy."

"And why is that?"

"Because then I could go to sleep and night not knowing that there were people like you out there."

Draco looked at him, expressionless. Harry expected him to hit him, and if he were honest he wouldn't have blamed him. But Draco did nothing, just clenched his jaw and looked away, continuing to limp along beside Harry.

"And what about your friends?' asked Draco. 'Life would have been so much simpler if you had forsaken them and their ways and become _my_ friend. You could have had power, the easy road…"

"I don't care about what's easy or how much power I could have had,' said Harry firmly. "They're all I care about. Getting you out of here… is a distant second."

"Come on, Potter, be honest,' said Draco with a smirk, 'part of you likes the fighting, doesn't it? Gives you a sense of purpose in the world."

Harry said nothing.

Draco sighed and winced as he applied more pressure on his injured leg. "Personally, I don't get what you're so stressed about all the time. You know you're going to come out of this alright. You're Harry Potter! Nothing can kill you… unfortunately."

"I just get lucky, I suppose."

"Don't be so modest. Luck has nothing to do with it and you know it.'

Harry frowned at him, wondering why that sounded like a compliment.

Draco frowned as well, as if just realizing what he had just said. "Stupid berk, Potter."

"I used to think it was just luck,' said Harry as they walked around another bend, 'but now I'm not so sure. I mean, no-one has _that_ much luck. Maybe I am actually just that good at getting out of things."

"You wish.' Muttered Draco irritably, still furious with himself.

But Harry ignored him. "When I'm fighting, it's like the whole world goes away. And I only know one thing: that I'm going win, and they're going lose. I like that feeling."

"Well, it beats that "dead" feeling you get when _they_ win and _you_ lose."

"Do you think I can beat Him?' asked Harry.

Draco frowned. "Why ask me? Ask your minions."

Harry shook his head. "I know you'll give me an honest answer."

Draco was silent for so long Harry thought he wasn't going to answer at all. But, after a long moment he finally opened his mouth to answer, he didn't get even the first syllable out because a shadow had just appeared in front of them – something was coming around the bend toward them.

Draco raised his pipe, ready. "What is it _now_?"

Harry raised his wand too, not wanting to be caught off-guard again. They both watched with baited breath as it approached. There was a bulb of light coming with it, and Harry frowned in confusion. What on earth was it? And was it… hopping?

"What is it?' said Draco, confused as it finally came into view.

It wasn't actually a creature, more a wisp of smoke gathered into some sort of form. It had only one leg and was carrying a lantern with a small, glowing flame lit inside.

Harry relaxed a little, but did not lower his wand. "It's a Hinkypunk."

"A whadda wha?"

"A Hinkypunk! We learnt about them in Defense Against the Dark Arts years ago! Don't you remember?"

"Was that the year we had Lupin?"

"Yes,"

"Then no."

Harry sighed impatiently as the Hinkypunk hopped in front of them expectantly. Harry knew what it wanted, and he felt his feet already wanting to move toward it. He blinked and looked away from it, fighting its seductive pull. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and panicked.

"Malfoy, no!"

Draco, whose eyes had been wide and locked on the Hinkypunk, had started moving toward it as if in a daze. But Harry had reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling back.

"It wants us to follow."

"Yeah, into a bloody bog!"

"We're in a sewer, Potter! We're already in a bog!"

"Look away from it!"

"But, the light…"

"Look away from the light!"

"I can't help it… it's so _beautiful_…"

Harry let out an impatient cry, looked around at the Hinkypunk and aimed. "_Reducto_!"

The floor in front of the Hinkypunk exploded, and with a shrill cry it turned and hopped off down and adjacent hallway and out of sight.

"Wait!' called Draco, trying to run off after it. Harry caught him around the middle and held him back. 'Come back!"

"Malfoy, snap out of it!" cried Harry. He slapped Draco hard in the face.

Draco blinked and looked at Harry in amazement. He rubbed his face. "Did you just _slap_ me?"

Harry sighed and began walking off the way the Hinkypunk had come. "You're an idiot. If you'd pay attention once or twice in class you'd know that Hinkypunks lead lost travelers into bogs and watch them drown!"

"Granger? Is that you?"

They continued down the hallway for another hundred meters, Harry fuming and impatient and Draco hobbling along with his limp, trying desperately to keep up. They walked right to the end of the hallway until they came to a round room with three more different hallway exits.

Harry sighed. "Which one is it?"

"I don't know."

"Well look at the map!"

"You know, Potter, we need to work on your people skills.' Said Draco, getting the map out of his pocket. 'Manners will get you a long way. You'd have a lot better reaction if you'd be a bit more polite."

"Malfoy, I'm wet, I'm bleeding and I'm tired and I'd much rather pummel you in the face than be polite, right now!"

"Oh într-adevăr?' came a new voice.

Harry and Draco whirled around, alarmed. They'd gone for hours hearing no-other voices but their own. This one was deep, slow, articulate and almost amused. Harry was turning in circles slowly, shining his light around every crevice of the circular room, trying to find the source of the voice. Draco had the pipe raised again, smeared with dry blood, his eyes wide and alert.

"Who's there?' shouted Harry, sounding braver than he felt. 'Show yourself!"

No answer.

"Come out before we kick the crap out of you!' snapped Harry.

"Yeah,' called Draco, '_dammit_!"

There was a long pause, and then Harry saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He whirled around and shone the light right on their newcomer. Harry expected many number of Creatures; Acromantula, Basalisk, Red Caps, Sphinx – but it was none of these things.

It was a man.

He was tall, _very_ tall, with long black hair, bright blue eyes and prominent features. He wore a long, black cloak that covered his clothes. He was watching Harry and Draco intently, the corner of his mouth turned upward in a smirk.

"Cine dvs, strãinii?" he said softly, almost kindly.

Harry blinked, unable to understand him. He cast a glance at Draco, expecting him to be just as puzzled; but Draco was the complete opposite. He was standing at the ready, his entire body tense. He was holding the raised pipe tightly in front of him, his face hard and cautious.

"Malfoy…'

"I remember now.' Said Draco in a low voice, his eyes locked on the man, unwavering. '_Strigoi_; I remember what it is. It's an old language."

"Man?"

Draco shook his head. "Vampire."

Harry looked back around at the man, the fog being lifted. Of course he was a vampire. What else could he be with skin as pale as that? _Bugger_.

"Speak la spre eu,' said the Vampire, taking slow steps toward them. His voice was smooth and calm, like a thick liquid soothing the senses. 'Ce te aduce aici?"

"Look, I don't understand…' started Harry, but Draco cut him off."

"El nu se îngrijoreazã dvs.' He growled, his eyes narrowing.

Harry looked at him in amazement. "You speak Romanian?'

Draco shrugged. "Father thought it appropriate."

"What did he say?"

"He said that Romanian was an under-appreciated language and that me learning it…"

"Not your Dad, you nutter… the Vampire!"

"Oh. He wants to know why we're here.' Said Draco. 'I told him to piss off."

The Vampire smiled, pearly white teeth dazzling against the light from Harry's wand. "El nu este seif încolo doi younglings pentru a fi aici. Fãpturile plimbarea periculoasã aceste sãlile."

Harry turned his head to Draco, but kept his eyes on the Vampire. "Translate?"

"He said that it's not safe for us to be here,' said Draco, 'he said that dangerous creatures walk these halls."

"Yeah, no kidding.' Muttered Harry.

The Vampire began circling them lazily. Harry and Draco didn't turn their back to him, turning with him as he paced around them, their defenses up ready for anything. Harry had been on edge for so long that he was almost forgetting what it was like to relax. The Vampire's calm demeanor only cause him to tense more; he'd been attacked for one night to earn the right to be paranoid.

The creature clucked his tongue disapprovingly, eyeing them. "Atât de mult sânge. Venit cu mine. Mine voi ajuta complet dvs."

Draco laughed nervously, his grip tightening on his pipe. "He wants us to go with him so he can clean up our wounds. Nici o o ºansã în iad!"

"Not a chance in hell!' cried Harry.

"That's what I told him."

The Vampire laughed a soft, gentle laugh. It seemed ironic that a creature so dangerous could seem so placid. He put his hands behind is back. "Acel nu a fost nici o o cerere."

Harry looked at Draco. "What?"

Draco had gone pale. "He said that it wasn't a request."

Harry's immediate impulse of dread was proved right. It started off as a low rustle echoing throughout the room, and then they entered. More vampires. Different heights, colours, shapes and ages, all of them pale and gaunt with startlingly bright eyes. They came from all four passageways. Harry and Draco pressed their backs against one other, determined not to have any of them out of their line of vision. They were completely surrounded.

"This is going to get interesting.' Said Harry in a low voice.

Draco flinched. "Define 'interesting'."

"'Oh God, oh God, we're both going to die'?"

"Prietenii mei ºi eu am am urmãrit dvs de atunci dvs aþi ajuns.' Said the first Vampire as the other fifteen created a tight circle around them. He smiled cruelly. 'Dvs ambii aveþi ascuns unui Erumpent."

"What he say this time?' asked Harry, glancing at each Vampire in turn.

"He said they've been tracking us since we got here,' he paused and frowned, '… and he called us _noisy_."

Harry scowled. He wasn't really that surprised. They hadn't really been very quiet about their presence, and Vampires did have exceptional hearing.

"We must be close,' said Draco softly, twisting the pipe in his hands. 'They've had hours to apprehend us, yet they choose now to do it? They're desperate, and this is their last attempt."

"If we can get past them…' started Harry.

"This isn't another Gryffindor plan, is it?"

"They've worked before."

"Before _when_? The birth of Merlin?"

"_Liniºte_!" shouted the first Vampire.

Harry and Draco fell silent. Harry didn't need to be fluent in Romanian to know that they were being told to shut up.

"Dvs veþi veni cu pe noi acum.' Said the Vampire more politely. He grinned again, showing two sharp fangs menacingly. 'ªI se simte liber pentru a se lupta. Noi bucurãm de o provocare."

The circle of Vampires laughed. Harry tensed up again.

"He said we need to go with them now,' said Draco, not needing to be asked, 'and that… they'd prefer it if we struggled. They… like the challenge."

"Sick.' Spat Harry, his mind in a whirl.

He was thinking so fast his brain hurt. He was so close, _so close_, and a few vampires were not going to get in his way. He looked around for something he could use, but there was nothing. The walls were bare. There was only him and Draco, and his wand and Draco's pipe. They were ridiculously outnumbered and outmatched. Harry had never squared off against a Vampire before, and had only talked about them in theory at school a few times. He wished Ron and Hermione were there.

"Any ideas?' muttered Draco.

"I'm thinking.' Said Harry, his eyes narrowing at the Vampires.

They were just standing there, looking highly amused and patient. He hated to imagine what they were thinking. Some of them were licking their lips, others were panting and a few were even drooling. Harry knew what they must look like, bloody and scratched. They must have looked as inviting as a chocolate cake with extra chocolate icing did to Harry.

"You're the big Defense Against the Dark Arts expert, aren't you?' said Draco impatiently.

"Well you're the one who can talk to them!"

"I speak Romanian, not Vampire!' snapped Draco. 'You ran your own stupid secret society, Potter! You must know _something_!"

"Well, a stake would do it."

Draco frowned. "Don't you think this is an odd time to be thinking about feeing them?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Not a _steak_, a _stake_!"

"Destul de aceastã discuþie.' Said the Vampire sharply. He stepped forward and held his hand out to Harry. 'Mânã meu bagheta dvs ºi venitã cu pe noi. _Imediat_."

"He says he wants…"

"I know what he wants.' Said Harry sharply, glaring up at the Vampire. 'Tell him I said to piss off."

The Vampire's polite façade fell and he frowned down at Harry.

Draco swallowed. "I don't think I need to."

Harry's grip tightened on his wand. The Vampire didn't move, simply stood there waiting, his hand held out, palm up. Harry would be damned if he was going to give in that easily, but he was fast running out of options. They couldn't run for it, the circle was formed to tightly. They couldn't simply apparate out, they needed the Cup. It was just down one of these hallways… Harry could feel it calling him…

"Do you know which hallway leads to the Horcrux?' asked Harry over his shoulder.

Draco nodded. "The one on the right."

"Are you positive?"

"Have I even been wrong? I mean, when it's important."

Harry's eyes darted around everywhere, looking for something… anything…

He looked up, getting an idea.

"How's your leg?' asked Harry.

"Throbbing madly, thanks for asking."

"Can you roll?"

"If I have to, but what are you…"

"_REDUCTO_!"

It all happened at once. The roof exploded above them from the force of Harry's spell; it collapsed and pipes burst, showering rubble, water and dirt down on top of them. Harry instantly grabbed Draco's arm, pulled him down roughly to the ground and kicked out hard, his feet connecting with the legs of the Vampire. It fell to the floor, but Harry couldn't see anything but dust. The other Vampires were all crying out, some in pain, most in anger. Rocks and plaster and concrete were still falling, filling the entire room with dust making it almost impossible to see.

Harry quickly got to his feet, pulling Draco up with him. "What direction was the hallway?' he yelled over the chaos.

"South e-east!' coughed Draco.

"Cover me!" Harry placed his wand in his hand. '_Point me_!'

The wand span to the left, pointing diagonally downward. Getting his bearings, Harry waved dust away from his face and began moving in the direction of the south-east hallway, dragging Draco along behind him.

"_Gãsiþi-i_!' shouted an angry voice. '_Confiscaþi-i_!"

"Come on!' yelled Harry, pulling Draco along by his sleeve.

They stumbled over rubble, slipped in puddles and shoved their way through bodies, desperately trying to get down the hallway before the dust cleared. Harry had one hand outstretched, trying to feel for the wall…

"Argh! Potter!"

Harry pulled on Draco, but he wasn't moving. He shot a curse blindly over his shoulder, and there was the sound of metal hitting against flesh, and then Draco was moving again. Harry squinted, the dust clearing. Someone knocked into him; he shoved them back roughly and continued moving. He could feel Draco swinging his pipe randomly, hoping to hit someone. He was firing curses everywhere, hoping he was hitting something. He could see a bright mould of light amongst the dust, dark tall shadows dancing in front of it. He considered blowing up the wall to scare them out of the way…

"_VOI_!'

A pair of long, cold fingers curled around Harry's neck. He gasped out loud, trying to scream but the grip was too tight, cutting off his air supply. Draco jerked sharply, and he was pulled from Harry's grip. Harry clawed at the hands around his neck, writhing, trying to break free. He felt his eyes bulging, his face going red. He didn't know where Draco was; all he could see were narrowed, yellow eyes through the cloud of dust. He kicked out, hit with his fists, doing anything. He refused to die. He refused to have come this far to fail now…

Harry stuck the tip of his wand into the side of the Vampire. He opened his mouth to speak the spell, but nothing came out. He felt himself getting faint, everything was starting to dim…

_Sectumsempra_, he thought furiously. _Come on!_ _Sectumsempra_! _SECTUMSEMPRA_!

There was a howl of pain and Harry was released. He fell to his knees into a puddle of water, bet over double and gulped down air. His glasses fell off his nose into the puddle of water, and once he had regained control over himself he felt around for them. He found them submerged in a large puddle, put them on and shakily got to his feet. He rubbed his neck and looked around, trying to find Draco. He could hear him, his pipe swinging away, occasionally hitting something.

"Malfoy!"

"Take that you blood suckers! I'm a little busy, Potter!"

"Meet me in that hallway! I'm getting there!"

"How?"

"I don't know!' shouted Harry, stumbling over rubble and firing curses in every direction, 'I'm making this up as I go!"

Harry ran as fast as he could, keeping low. Anything that moved toward him he cursed, hoping that it wasn't Draco he was sending flying into the concrete walls. He slipped in a puddle and almost lost his footing, but he caught himself just in time. He leapt over a large boulder of concrete, dodged an oncoming figure and finally ran into the refuge of the hallway. The dust was less in the hallway, and it was blissfully empty for a moment. He leant against the wall and peered back out into the room.

"Malfoy?"

"I can't see!' came Draco's call, muffled. 'They're… _OW_!... Potter!"

Harry raised his wand and did the only thing that made sense. "_Accio Draco Malfoy_!"

There was a loud cry of surprise, and then a moment later a large figure came crashing into Harry knocking them both to the ground. Harry shoved Draco off him, and the two boys quickly got to their feet and ran off down the hallway.

"Are you sure this is the right hallway?' called Harry.

"We'll find out soon!" panted Draco, wincing from the pain of his leg.

"Dupã ce ei!' came a loud cry of rage. 'Eu vreau capurile lor pe un platou! Eu vreau sã beau sângele lor de la venele lor!

"What's he saying?' called Harry.

Draco laughed as they ran around a corner, his pipe still in his hand. "You don't want to know!"

The hallway was almost ridiculously long. They seemed to spiral upwards, a never-ending bend, until finally the end was in sight in the shape of a large, wooden door padlocked tightly.

Harry and Draco skidded to a halt almost knocking right into it. They looked over their shoulders, the footsteps of incoming Vampires running after them increasing in volume.

"Open it!' shouted Draco.

"What if it's not the right door?"

"I don't care if it's not the right door!' snapped Draco. 'It's this room or death!"

Harry didn't need any more convincing. "_Alohomora_!"

The lock didn't budge.

"Jesus Christ!' shouted Harry furiously. He aimed right at the centre of the door. '_Reducto_!"

The spell hit the ward protecting it, causing the ward to shimmer blue and the curse to go rebounding off the walls. Harry and Draco ducked and shielded their heads as the roof exploded above them.

"This can't be happening!' shouted Harry, looking over his shoulder. The Vampires were getting closer. 'I'm so close to… Malfoy, what are you _doing_?"

Draco wasn't listening. He was bashing the lock repeatedly with his pipe, the ward amazingly not stopping him. He hit it again and again and again and again…

CRACK.

The padlock snapped open and fell to the floor.

Draco looked up at Harry, stunned. "I can't believe that actually worked!"

"Gloat later! Get inside now!" yelled Harry.

Draco didn't need telling twice. He pulled the door open, and he hand Harry slipped inside just as the Vampires came running around the bend into view. Harry and Draco threw themselves against the door to slam it shut, but something was stopping it, trying to shove it back open and get it.

Harry shoved with all his might, planting his back against it and digging his heels into the floor. Draco was ramming his shoulder up against it, eyeing the hands trying to reach in through the gap, their long sharp fingernails clawing at him. It was like a rhino trying to barge in. Harry's glasses were falling off his nose and every muscle in his body screamed it protest, but he didn't dare relax for even a second. The Vampires were throwing all their weight against the doors, slamming their bodies up against it. They door kept slipping, but Harry just pushed harder, his face screwed up from pain and effort.

"Get back!' shouted Draco, hitting their hands with his pipe. 'Back, I say! Be gone, Heathens! Oh!' he cried out as one of them grabbed his pipe, snatched it out of his hand and retreated back behind the door. 'He's got my pipe!"

"Forget your bloody pipe, Malfoy! _PUSH_!"

They cried out with the effort, their feet sliding and their muscles burning. One shove, two shoves… click. The door was shut. Harry wasted no time; he raised his wand, said '_Colloportus'_, there was a loud squelching noise and the door was sealed shut.

Harry and Draco literally collapsed against the door in relief, panting hard. Harry's arms and legs felt like jelly, barely keeping him up as they ignored the Vampires banging their fists on the other side of the door. Harry took a few deep breaths, savoring the few moments he had to just stop and think. He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as sweat poured into his open cuts, stinging; he took off his glasses, wiped them and when he put them back on the reason why they were here was suddenly shoved back into sharp focus.

Draco was leaning heavily against the wooden door, his cheek pressed against it hard and his mouth wide open as he took slow, deep breaths. "Thank Merlin for that! Run on home, you blasted fiends! _Bucurii_! But honestly, Potter, what were you thinking? Blowing the roof to smithereens? You could have killed us!"

But Harry wasn't listening. The room around him seemed empty, although it was anything but. He couldn't see the long boxes lining the walls. He couldn't see the grate above his head that was letting in the cool air of the surface. He couldn't hear the banging on the door, or Draco cursing at them in Romanian… he could only see in front of him, on the table on velvet, shining gold – the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff.

_Lots_ of Cups of Helga Hufflepuff.

Draco pushed himself away from the door stood level with him. He quirked an eyebrow. "There's twelve of them?"

"I counted eleven."

"There's twelve."

Harry threw him a look and made his way over to the table. They were all laid out, each of them identical to the other. All of the finest gold, two finely wrought handles and the Badger, the symbol of Hufflepuff house, engraved on the front. They all gleamed from the light of Harry's wand, all of them the same, nothing to distinguish one from the other.

Draco looked around as the banging on the door intensified. "How long will that door hold?"

"With the way they're belting on it? Not long.' Said Harry. He ran his hand over all the cups slowly, as if trying to sense the real one, but he felt nothing but excitement and adrenaline.

"Which one is it?'

"I don't know. I don't know the spell to identify it."

"Just take them all then."

Harry nodded. He reached out for one in the middle and hesitated. The banging on the door was now louder than ever; an even banging that suggested they were ramming it with something, each beat in time with the thumping of his heart.

"Are you scared?' asked Draco suddenly.

"No, are you?"

"Psht, of course not!' scoffed Draco, waving a hand dismissively. 'I'm a Malfoy! I don't know the meaning of the word 'fear'."

Harry sighed. He wriggled his fingers, and then curled his hand around the cup.

BANG.

Draco and Harry jumped as every lid on every box within the room snapped open.

"Fear! Noun! A state of terror!' cried Draco, taking a leap backward.

They watched nervously, the cup still clutched in Harry's hand as for a moment nothing happened, and then something began to move. Harry raised his wand and was appalled by what he was seeing.

"_INFERI_?' cried Draco, taking a large step back.

"You've got to be _joking_,' groaned Harry.

There were seven of them, all sitting up at once. Their rotting flesh was rank and made Harry dry-reach. They silently began climbing out of their coffins, and Harry felt Draco's fingernails dig into his arm.

"Potter, you know how some people hate to say I told you so?' he said frantically. 'Not me! _I TOLD YOU SO_!"

BANG.

The door burst open. The Vampires filed in, only five of them left, each of them worst for ware. Harry raised his wand, not knowing what to aim for. The Vampires, seeing the predicament they were in, simply smiled and stood back, obviously more content to watch. He heard a muttering behind him and backed up toward the table.

"Malfoy, grab the cups."

Draco didn't move, just kept muttering.

"Malfoy! What are you… are you _praying_?"

"Maybe I am!"

"This is not the time!"

"There's no harm in conversing with the Almighty!"

"And what does the Almighty tell you?' snapped Harry, tensing up as the Inferi edged closer. 'That you're a _raving lunatic_?"

"He says he can get me out of this mess…' said Draco, his voice high-pitched with fear, '…but he's pretty sure you're fucked."

Harry didn't even have time to be furious. The Inferi were too close for comfort… the Vampires were blocking their only way out…

"Grab the Cups!' he shouted, shoving Draco toward the table.

Draco didn't question him. He scooped all the little cups up in his arms and ran around the other side of the table next to Harry. He upturned the table with a clatter, giving him and Harry some protection.

Harry handed Draco his wand and held onto his arm. "Get us out of here, now!"

Draco closed his eyes and attempted to apparate.

Nothing happened.

"Malfoy!"

"I'm trying!' cried Draco. He tried again. Nothing.

"What is it?'

"I…I can't apparate from here!' said Draco, appalled. 'There must be more wards up!"

Harry felt dread settle in his chest. He looked at the approaching Inferi, he looked around the room. There was no other exit. No other way out.

_So I'll make one_, he thought suddenly.

He snatched his wand out of Draco's hand and pointed it at the table. "_INCENDIO_!"

The table burst into flames. The Inferi instantly retreated, howling and groaning in pain at the light. The Vampires had taken a large step back, halfway out the door. Knowing they only a few moments, Harry raised his wand at the wall, hoping to God there wasn't a gas line behind it.

"_REDUCTO_!"

Harry and Draco were almost blown off their feet as the wall exploded, creating a massive hole. Air swept in violently, fanning the flames of the burning table into a small inferno. Not waiting for the dust to clear, Harry and Draco stood on the edge of the hole and looked down. A long river of sewage water was running ten feet down.

Draco looked at him. "We're not actually jumping into that, are we?"

"Jump or die!"

"Hey, jumping! It's entirely my thing!"

And without another moment's hesitation, the two of them took a massive leap into the air. They fell only for a few seconds before landing feet first into the freezing water. It was deeper than Harry had expected, and he almost lost grip of his wand. His eyes squeezed shut; he kicked upward furiously until his head broke the surface.

He took in a deep breath of air and blinked the water out of his eyes. "Malfoy?"

He looked around as the current carried him downstream beyond his control. He couldn't see him anywhere.

"_Malfoy_!"

Nothing.

Panic began to settle in as the moments passed by… he'd been under too long…

Then Draco appeared out of the water, coughing and spluttering. "Ack… this water is dis_gus_ting…"

"Malfoy!' cried Harry, swimming over to him. 'What happened?"

"I dropped two of them,' coughed Draco, flicking hair out of his eyes. He was treading water furiously, the cups still in his arms. 'I had to go back down for them."

Harry looked at him, breathing hard and shivering. "You… you did that?"

"Oh no, I just liked soaking myself in revolting, vile, foul, contaminated water!"

Harry spat water out of his mouth. "Th-thanks."

Draco threw him a look. "Just take some of these and I'll call it even."

Harry shrunk them under the surface of the water down to the size of matchboxes, took half and slipped them in his pocket as did Draco. They went with the current for a while, wanting to make sure they were far enough away from the Vampires and Inferi as possible. Despite what they had just been through, Harry couldn't wipe the smile off his face. They had done it! One of the twelve he had was the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff. The fifth Horcrux. They were one step closer. Harry relaxed and floated on his back, looking up at the ceiling. His muscles unclenched and he didn't care that he was lying in sewage water… they'd actually done it.

Half a mile down, Draco pointed to something up ahead.

"There. That ladder should take us to the surface."

Harry rolled over and looked to where he was pointing, only a few more meters away. "Can you apparate then?"

"Once we're outside it shouldn't be a problem"

Harry nodded and flicked his wet hair out of his eyes… and that's when he saw it.

The massive fin.

"Malfoy!' he cried, splashing Draco floating along beside him. 'What's that?"

Draco whirled around and cried out in fear. "I don't know! Hex it!"

Harry hit him in the arm. "Come on, this way! Quick!"

The two boys quickly turned and headed for the edge of the river. Harry looked over his shoulder, the massive fin slowly edging closer. Harry and Draco quickly climbed out of the water and pressed themselves against the wall, watching as the fin stopped, hesitated and then turned and vanished beneath the surface.

Draco sighed. "I don't think I can take much more of this."

"This is nothing,' said Harry, leading them over to the ladder. 'You should have been in the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"No thank you. I was intelligent enough not to enter myself into that contest just for attention,' said Draco, shoving Harry out of the way so he could get to the ladder first. 'I actually had a brain."

"I didn't enter.' Said Harry.

Draco sighed. "Of course you didn't."

He was about to climb upward when a splash made them both turn. The creature with the massive fin and leapt up out of the water like a dolphin playing in the waves, just long enough for Harry to glimpse its peculiar form. It was a horse in its front half, as large as a Clydesdale with a fin instead of a mane, and it had the hindquarters and giant tail of a fish.

"Oh, a Hippocampus!' said Draco happily.

"You do know what it is then?"

"Oh yes! Father used to have a few of them in the lake out the back of our manor!' said Draco, climbing up, his clothes drenched and dripping everywhere. 'They did have the most wonderful battles. I even saw one get beached once!'

Harry gaped at him as he climbed, just seeing the first rays of dawn above him. "I fear you."

-------------

When they apparated into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, Harry's first instinct had been to march right up to bed and collapse. He had also considered going to the kitchen, finding the biggest glass he could find, filling it right with Firewhiskey and toasting his victory. He even considered waking up his mum, Hermione and Ron and showing them what he had done.

But when he had apparated in, he found that doing any or all of these things would be quite impossible.

The first thing he had noticed was the yelling.

"… we can find him! If you'd just let me have access to those star charts…"

"I don't want you finding him, Hermione! I don't want you going anywhere near him! He's _my_ son! _I'll_ be the one tearing off after him in a huff! It's bad enough I have to worry about him gallivanting off God-knows where, let alone worrying about the two of you as well!"

"Mrs. Potter, we're Harry's best friends! We're in this together!"

"Well, Ron, perhaps you should have given him that speech before he went off by himself!"

"He could be anywhere! He could be hurt! We need to go after him!"

"No, _I_ need to after him!"

"Well, I'm going with you too then!"

"Hey! If Tonks is going so are we!"

"Tonks is not going. You're not going."

"I am so going! And who do you think you are trying to stop me? He's my cousin! He's my responsibility! And I want to kill him just as badly as you do!"

"_Harry_!"

The yelling ceased. Hermione was seated at the table, a dozen books and pieces of parchment scattered around her, her hair wild and messy, no doubt from running her hands through it stressfully over and over. Ron was on the other side of the table, the side nearest to Harry and Draco, arms folded stubbornly over his chest. His ears were red and his eyes were flashing. Lily had been standing in front of him, still dressed in her tartan pajamas, her hair tied up in a messy bun and her wand clutched tightly in her hand. Tonks was sitting on Hermione's side of the table, looking insulted and irritated. Remus was standing behind her, yet to say anything, his hand on her shoulder probably the only thing keeping her in her seat. All three of them had looked around the second Hermione had spotted them and cried out.

And now there was silence.

Harry knew what they must have looked like; scratched, bloody, bruised, filthy and dripping wet. He exchanged a look with Draco, who said nothing, simply shrugged in a 'don't look at me, they're your family' kind of way. Harry looked back at the others. Hermione's eyes were filled with tears, Ron looked ready to collapse, Tonks's mouth was open in a half disgusted snarl and Remus seemed to shake as if his knees had buckled.

Lily looked like she could blow the entire house up with her anger.

Harry flinched under her gaze. He adverted her eyes, reached into his pocket, pulled out one of the cups and returned it to its former size. He smiled, only just holding back a triumphant cry of 'ta-da!'.

Lily's jaw clenched and she folded her arms over her chest. She spoke only two words, her eyes locked determinedly on Harry, but they were with enough fury to make even Draco flinch.

"Bedroom,' she said, her tone low, '_now_."

* * *

A/N – Longest. Chapter. Ever! You have no idea how badly my shoulders hurt after writing this monstrosity! I think I really need to learn how to edit, but I can do that another time! I wanted everything in this chapter, and that's what you got! I also apologize if the Romanian was off, or totally wrong, because I used an online translator and I'm not very confident in it! Guess the Quotes!

Please review!


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41!

* * *

Harry watched his mother pace a ditch in the floor from his position at the end of the bed. The covers were damp around his backside and droplets of water were falling from his fringe and splashing onto his glasses, making it harder and harder to see. He was shivering, but not from cold. They'd been up there for five whole minutes now, and Lily had not spoken a word the entire time she marched up the stairs behind him right into his room and slammed the door behind them. He wished she'd just say something.

He ran a hand through his hair, spraying smelly water everywhere. "Did you bring me up here just so you can pace a hole in my floor?"

"The only reason this house is still standing is because I'm pacing,' she said shortly, not looking up from her feet.

"Just yell at me then and get it over with.' Sighed Harry, leaning back on the heels of his hands. 'Although I don't see why you need to."

Lily stopped.

She glared at him. "You don't see why? Are you certifiable?"

"No, I'm dripping wet and smell like an Elephants arse."

"Do _not_ crack jokes with me." snapped Lily harshly.

Without meaning to, Harry recoiled.

Lily gave him one last icy look before resuming her pacing. Her jaw was clenched tight, her eyes were blazing and her entire body was rigid. She seemed to be only just holding herself back from loosing her composure completely… and Harry for the life of him could not understand why.

"Why are you so mad?' he asked. 'I got the Cups!"

"Why am I so mad? Take a wild guess, Harry!' yelled Lily, whirling on him. 'Just put yourself in my position! Just think for a moment, just one second, what it would be like to find your son missing from his bed in the middle of the night. Just imagine how that would feel!"

Harry slouched. "I would have left a note…"

Lily laughed bitterly. "A _note_? Harry, I didn't need a note to know where you had gone! That is not the point here!"

"Then what is?"

"The point is that you just _left_!' snapped Lily. 'You went off by yourself into for all we knew could have been the most dangerous place since the front foyer of Myer on opening sale day and didn't even spare one thought for us! You left us behind! You left _me_ behind! And you took _Draco_, of all people! He could have done anything to you! God, you are _unbelievable_!"

Harry sat up, unable to say anything immediately. "I… but… it…' he was dumfounded. 'I left you behind to _protect_ you!'

Lily scoffed, rolled her eyes and threw her arms up in the air.

"It's true!' shouted Harry. 'I knew it wouldn't be safe there! I didn't want any of you getting hurt!"

"Harry, pull your head in! When will you learn that we don't need you to protect us?' said Lily. 'We don't need you to shelter us from the big bad world, and more importantly, we don't want you to. We're in this together! There's no 'you and us', there's just _us_. That's all we have! You can't just leave us behind like that! We're meant to be here for each other."

"Well, I did.' Snapped Harry, getting to his feet. 'I _didn't_ need you. I did it all by myself…only, with someone else… and nothing bad happened. We were wasting time just sitting around! If we had waited Voldemort could have found out we were onto him and moved them, and then we never would have found them! So I'm sorry, _mother_, that I didn't bring you all along on the outing, because I know how you all love to put yourself in life endangering situations, but I was actually trying to save you all some trouble and pain!"

"Don't get sarcastic with me.' snapped Lily. 'I have every right to be furious with you!"

"But _why_?' laughed Harry, confused. He reached into his pockets and emptied the five little cups onto the bed. 'I did you all a favour! Look! That's half of them! One of them is the real Horcrux, which means we're one step closer to this all being over."

"I don't care about the Horcrux!"

Harry blinked, stunned. "You… what?"

Lily sighed impatiently, putting a hand on her forehead. "You heard me. I don't care about the Cup. I honestly couldn't care less at the moment."

"But…"

"No buts!' she cried, throwing her arms up in the air. 'What, did you expect me to be _pleased_ with you? To be _proud_ of you? To shower you with praise for returning from such a heroic mission?"

Harry didn't answer. He didn't need to for Lily to know that this had been what he had been thinking.

"Do you have _any_ idea what I've been through tonight?' she snapped. 'Not only were you missing, but so was Draco! And then you show up all bloody and bruised and…' she paused, her eyes lingering over him with a pained expression for only a moment before she flared up again. 'I had the most horrendous images of him dragging you into the middle of no-where and killing you! Of leaving you in a ditch somewhere! And I wouldn't have even known about it!"

"It was a graveyard, there were no ditches."

Lily's nostrils flared. She closed the distance between him and gave him a sharp poke in the chest. "I'm warning you; do not push me right now. I am beyond rational thought!"

"Yeah,' said Harry, slapping her hand away, 'I'm getting that vibe! You really don't care about what I did tonight, do you? Don't you even want to hear what I've been through?"

"I only need to look at you to know!' she cried, gesturing at him. She let out an angry snort and scrunched her hair in her fists. 'You really don't understand how I'm feeling right now, do you?"

"Angry? Upset? It's hard to miss!"

"But you don't understand _why_!' she shouted.

"Explain it to me then, seen as I'm so dimwitted!' snapped Harry, angrily. 'What is it that I've bloody done wrong now?"

"You can't keep doing this to us, Harry!' she snapped. 'You can't keep gallivanting off on your own and leaving us behind. You can't keep taking risks and having absolutely no regard for your own safety, even if it is for something we need. You need to wait for us! We need to do it _together_!"

"I can do things alone!' snapped Harry, angry. 'I'm not stupid! I'm not a baby! I know how to take care of myself! I can't have you around all the time! _He alone will have power the Dark Lord knows not_! Alone! Do you get what that means? I have to do this by myself! Me! No-body else!"

"Nobody can do anything by themselves, and they're a dickhead if they think that they can!' she snapped. 'I don't care if you're the Boy Who Lived, or the Chosen One or whatever else the world wants to label you; you're human, and you're my son, and you need us! You're just too stupid to realize it!"

"I don't need help!' he growled. 'I proved that tonight. I don't need anything from anyone. Dumbledore couldn't even help me now; he even admitted it to me. This is for me to do! Me! Alone! I don't need help from Ron, and I don't need help from Hermione, and I _especially_ don't need any help from _you_!"

A dull slap echoed off the walls. Lily put a hand over her mouth, muffling her gasp of shock. Harry looked at her, stunned, slowly reaching up to rub the red spot on his cheek where she had just slapped him, hard. The silence was deafening as they just stared at each other in shock.

Harry frowned, his shock wearing off. "You… you _slapped_ me!"

Lily's arm dropped, and her gaping mouth closed. She straightened up and frowned defensively. "Yes, I did. You deserved it."

"Bollocks!"

"_Bollocks_!' retorted Lily with a nod. 'You don't speak to me like that, young man! You don't speak about me like that, or your friends. I can't believe what I've just heard! When did you become so arrogant?"

Harry blinked. "I'm not arrogant."

"Yes, you are arrogant!' said Lily. "You're arrogant, and selfish, and pigheaded and stubborn and you don't have any regard for anyone but yourself!"

Harry was stunned. He wasn't arrogant. Not him. People like Draco were arrogant. Harry was a Gryffindor. He had morals. He had tact. He wasn't like Draco Malfoy! He wasn't arrogant.

Was he?

"I… I care.' He stuttered. 'That's why I didn't take you! Because I _do_ care!"

"No, Harry, I really don't think you do.' Said Lily. 'Look at what Ron and Hermione have done for you. Look what they've sacrificed! Ron left his home, let his family out of his sight so he could be here for you. Hermione left school for you! They both threw away their futures so they could be here with you!"

"I didn't ask them to do that,' muttered Harry, feeling that old guilt rising painfully in his chest.

"Regardless, they did it,' said Lily, 'and when you run off without them, disregard them and say that they don't matter like you did tonight…"

"Don't you dare say that they don't matter to me!' yelled Harry, jabbing a finger at her. 'You don't know anything about the way I feel about them!"

"Well, Harry, I'm sorry but you have an odd way of showing your appreciation and gratitude!" snapped Lily, offended. 'They gave it all up to be with you. To fight with you! And then you go off and take _Draco_ instead of them? How do you think that makes them feel?"

"I was trying to _protect_ them,' growled Harry through a clenched jaw.

"By going off alone?"

"I have to do it alone!"

"No, you don't!"

"Yes, I _do_!

"And why is that, exactly?' cried Lily.

"Because it's my destiny!' shouted Harry. His eyes were red and his posture was stiff; he was an emotional wreck. 'It was prophesized! Your death, Dad's death, made it all true! I have to do this alone! No-one can help me! I don't like it! God, I hate it so much that I can't even _breathe_! But it's just the way it's meant to be! I tried to avoid it, I tried to fight it, but I can't! It took be seven years to accept that, and you'll have to too!"

"Can I say something about your _destiny_, Harry?' snapped Lily, '_Screw_ destiny! Nothing is set in stone! There's only you and your choices! When this war finally comes we'll fight it, and we'll keep fighting it until we beat it into a bloody pulp! Because destiny is just another word for inevitable, and nothing's inevitable until you stand up, look it in the eye and say, 'you're evitable!'"

Harry shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut. "You don't understand it. You don't get what its like. He wants _me_, just _me_, and I won't let anyone else die for him to get what he wants! I want this over with! I want to walk down the street and not have to look over my shoulder! I want to be able to sleep at night and not have nightmares."

"We want that too!' cried Lily. 'We want you to have that, Harry! We want it for ourselves, for everyone!"

"I want it for you,' said Harry, his chest heaving, 'but more than that I want you to be around if and when I finally do get it for you. I want you to be here so you can enjoy it. So you can live it. That's why I went alone tonight. That's why I left you behind, and that's why I _will_ leave you behind. I don't care if it makes me arrogant, or selfish, or if you get so mad you cant even bare to look at me, or even if you end up hating me… at least you'll be alive."

"Harry…"

But Lily didn't even get to finish, for he had opened the door and left, leaving the door hanging wide open in his wake.

Lily considered going after him, but decided against it. She looked around at his bed and made her way over. The six little golden cups were lying there, gleaming innocently. Lily hated them instantly, despised their existence. In a flicker of rage, she picked them up and with a strangled cry, threw them hard at the wall. They clattered loudly to the wall, rolling around and banging into each other. Everything finally catching up with her, Lily collapsed to the floor, put her face in her hands and cried.

---------------

"_HARRY_!"

Harry winced and covered his ears as a furious Hermione Granger met him at the bottom of the stairs, her hair in disarray and her clothes wrinkled and stressed. "Hermione, volume…"

"I am not well pleased!"

"I am not well deaf."

Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously. Harry, not at all in the mood, walked straight around her and over to the kitchen table. Ron was sitting on the other side, his feet up on the table and his arms folded over his chest; Harry could feel his blue eyes locked on him but didn't acknowledge it.

He picked up one of the dozens of books, disinterested. "Is this all research, or just some kind of stress test for the table?"

"Don't even think about trying to change the subject!' snapped Hermione, hot on his heels. 'Do you have any idea… what you… and we…"

"Hermione,' sighed Harry, 'just _shut up_.'

Hermione gaped at him, extremely offended.

"Look I get it, okay? I was a selfish pillock… should have woken you all… can't be so reckless any more… yadda yadda yadda, Hermione, I've heard the speech already. And to be honest, I don't want or need to hear it from _you_. I'm tired, I've swallowed seven million gallons of sewer water, I've been bashed, whipped, bitten, scratched and almost decapitated and all I want to do, right now, is go to sleep for the next ten years, not listen to you giving me a lecture."

"You wouldn't have had to if you had just…"

"Did you _want_ this to happen to you?' snapped Harry, spreading his arms out to the side and presenting himself in example. 'Did you want to end up like this? Cause I sure as hell didn't want you to! So I'm sorry if sparing you this make me a fucking arrogant bastard, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat!"

Harry was sure how it had happened, but almost as if in one quick motion Ron was in front of him, and there was this blinding white light in front of his eyes, and then Harry was on the floor on his back, his jaw throbbing madly.

"_RON_!"

Harry rubbed his jaw and looked up, incredulously. Ron was still standing over him, absolutely furious, rubbing the knuckles on his right hand tenderly. Hermione had his arm tightly and was looking up at him with a mixture of anger and fear. Harry didn't even have time to attempt and stand up, for in a quick moment Ron was over him again. Harry flinched, expecting to be laid into quite viciously, but instead two large hands grabbed the front of his torn shirt and hauled him up roughly to his feet. Harry swayed, trying to catch his balance and sooth his aching cheek at the same time.

"Ron, what on _earth_ has gotten into you?' snapped Hermione, coming over to Harry. She took him by the shoulders, trying to steady him. 'Cant you see he's been through the ringer! And you decide to make it worse?"

Ron's anger seemed to be fading. His ears went red and his continued rubbing his knuckles, but his eyes were still locked on Harry.

"Sorry,' he muttered finally, 'but you're a prat, and you deserved it."

Harry said nothing. Ron was right, he did deserve it. Just like he deserved the slap from his mother. It wasn't the best feeling being beaten up by fiery redheads with short tempers, especially with what he'd been through that night already. But Hermione's hands were oddly soothing, and he resisted the urge to lean into her.

Hermione smoothed hair out of his face. "Just tell us why, Harry! Why couldn't you wait for us?"

"And why did you take _Malfoy_?' spat Ron.

Harry winced. Why didn't they understand? "I just… wanted to save you guys the trouble. I figured I could get it over and done with."

"But at the expense of your _life_?' said Hermione.

"I wasn't planning on dying, you know,' said Harry, 'that's what Malfoy was for. He was my human shield slash bodyguard slash bait slash anything else that involved him dying and me living."

Ron coughed in an attempt to hide his laughter.

Hermione wasn't as amused. "That's _horrible_, Harry!"

"You guys being in that position would have been even more horrible.' He said softly, giving her a look.

"Harry, look, I personally choose life,' said Ron, 'but I thought we were going to all go together, later on, when we were prepared and well-armed. The three of us. A team."

"Yes, _exactly_!' said Hermione, pointing at Ron. 'We're one of those legendary trio's people will forever talk about! We're like The Three Musketeers! Like…the Scarecrow, Lion and Tinman! Like… well…like _Han, Luke and Leia_!"

"Which one of us is Han?' asked Ron.

Hermione sighed. "Does it matter?"

"Can I be Han?' asked Ron.

"Oh, fine, whatever, the point is we're _partners_!' said Hermione, looking back at Harry. 'You going with Malfoy is like… Luke partnering up with Darth Vader at the end of the Empire Strikes Back!"

Harry frowned. "Like analogies much, Hermione?"

Hermione frowned up at him.

"Are you mad?' asked Harry finally.

"_Yes_!" said Hermione and Ron together.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He knew they would be. "I'm… sorry."

"No you're not.' Said Ron.

"Well, no, I'm not,' admitted Harry. 'I was going to ask you to come, but…'

He stopped.

"But what?' pressed Hermione.

Harry pursed his lips, feeling awkward. "I didn't want to… you just… you both looked so peaceful…"

He stopped again. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look, and Harry knew they understood. A small, awkward silence passed, and in that moment the reality of how much things had changed between the three of them was thrust sharply into focus. But as quickly as it appeared it was gone, and Hermione's grip on him tightened slightly.

"We would have gone with you.' She said sternly. 'You didn't have to take Malfoy with you."

"I didn't want you to come with me.' said Harry softly. He was suddenly very tired.

"Oh, well that's nice that is!' cried Ron.

"I don't mean it like that!' retorted Harry. 'God, why don't any of you get it? If you had been there I would have been worried sick! You would have distracted me!"

"We've gone with you before,' said Hermione. 'We've done almost everything with you and you've never faltered! We went with you to get the Philosophers stone, Ron went with you into the Chamber of secrets, the Shrieking Shack when we thought Sirius was after you, and you know that if we could have we would have gone into that maze with you during forth year…"

"I don't want you to follow me!' said Harry sharply. 'I don't even know where my road ends! What if I end up at the gates of hell?"

"Then we'll be there with you.' Said Ron simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry shook his head and pushed Hermione away. "I can't let you guys do that."

Hermione hugged herself. "But… we want to."

"I don't care if you want to."

"Well, we don't care if you don't care if we want to." Said Ron, quirking an eyebrow of confusion half way his sentence. 'Was that even English?"

"You're not getting rid of us that easily.' Said Hermione, her tone final.

Harry just looked at them. What did he have to do to make them understand? Why did they follow him? Didn't they understand how dangerous it was to be his friend? After seven years had it still not sunken in? Had that trip to the Department of Mysteries two years ago not proven anything? What was it that kept bringing them back? He was too tired to think about it.

He rubbed his arm, wincing as the cuts stung. "Was mum really mad?"

"More 'crazy insane' than mad,' said Ron, 'Remus had to actually put a potion in her drink to get her to relax a little."

"You can't really blame her,' said Hermione, 'waking up to find your son missing is traumatic enough for any parent, but when its you…"

Harry frowned. How come _Hermione_ got it and he still didn't?

"You should have seen Remus though,' said Ron, giving Harry a look.

"Why?' asked Harry.

Ron said nothing, just gave him a half shrug.

"Did you at least get what you went for?' asked Hermione.

"Upstairs.' Said Harry, nodding.

Hermione sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "Well, that's something, I suppose."

"So, do you want to tell us why you look like you just had a group hug with forty seven Blast-Ended Skrewts?' asked Ron, giving Harry's disheveled appearance an once-over.

Harry frowned. "Er, actually… no. I'm pretty tired. I think I might go lie down."

Ron blinked. "Oh, alright."

"You want us to come with you?' asked Hermione.

"No, I'm fine."

"Oh, Harry, at least let me clean your wounds…"

Harry was already at the foot of the stairs. He shook his head, waved a hand over his shoulder and headed up toward the upper level, completely aware of two sets of eyes boring into his back as he left. He wanted to go to bed, but he knew Lily would still be up there, and he didn't think he could go another round with her. So he walked up the hall and headed for the living room.

The room was blissfully empty, a fire already lit and roaring happily away. Harry sank down into the couch nearest the fireplace with a loud sigh of relief and let go of every muscle he'd been clenching tensely. It was ecstasy just to sit down. The cushions were large and inviting and seemed to suck him into them. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes, taking slow deep breaths. The silence was deafening, and the crackling from the fireplace seemed five times louder than it actually was, but he didn't care. His entire body was sore; his scratches stung, his bruises throbbed, his muscles ached and his scar burned. He needed a good aspirin or potion or something to dull the discomfort, but he could not be bothered moving. As far as he was concerned he could sit right here in this sofa for the rest of his life and be perfectly content. His arms were sitting limp at his side, his knees fallen apart and his belly pushed out in the tiniest bump.

A floorboard at the doorway squeaked, and then, "My, what an attractive vision you are. Such lovely posture."

Harry didn't even open his eyes. He simply exhaled slowly through his nose. "Go 'way, Malfoy."

Draco smirked and came out of the doorway. "Well, I would, but I'm desperate to sit down and, ironically enough,' he sighed heavily as he flopped down next to Harry, going just a limp, 'you're the only person in this house that isn't furious at me right now."

"Go figure.' Said Harry, his lips barely even moving.

It was odd to think that these two boys would ever be able to sit in any sort of silence, let alone a comfortable one; but Harry, for once, couldn't care less that Draco was half-asleep next to him, or that he reeked of so many foul stenches he didn't know where to begin. Somehow it was strangely comforting to have Draco sitting there. Maybe because Harry knew he wouldn't ask a million questions, or yell at him, or lecture him, or try to get him to talk about his feelings. He'd be quiet and let Harry rest in silence. And Harry didn't care at all how Draco was feeling in return.

It came out of no-where. Harry's head rocked backward suddenly as a stabbing pain shot through his scar. He winced and groaned, his eyes watering at the pain. He rubbed it softly with his fingers, and slowly the pain began to fade.

"What is that?' came Draco's worried voice. 'What are you doing? Does your scar hurt?"

Harry said nothing, just squeezed his eyes shut and took deep breaths.

Draco shifted an inch away from him. "That's a bad thing, right? Don't you go all mental when that happens? I mean, more mental than usual? Oh god, is this… is this when you _kill me_?"

"Malfoy, just shut up.' snapped Harry through clenched teeth.

"Should I get someone to tie you down and gag you? Is your brain going to leak out of your ears?"

The pain was gone. Harry sighed in relief, opened his eyes and looked at Draco. Although he was filthy and tired, Harry could still see the fear in his eyes. It was probably the first time Draco had ever openly been afraid in front of him; _because_ of him.

Harry rubbed his scar again softly. "Don't worry; I'm not going to kill you yet."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Draco relaxed a little, but didn't look totally convinced.

Harry collapsed back into the cushions and relaxed, his muscles unclenching once more. He could feel sleep creeping up on him, and he was welcoming it with open arms.

"Did you get in a lot of trouble?' he asked Draco softly.

Draco heaved a dramatic sigh. "Nympadora wanted to take my head off and place it on her wall as a trophy. How did you fare?"

"About the same."

"Splendid. Forget the fact that we just risked our necks and potentially saved the entire wizarding race from repression and prejudice, we _deserve_ to be yelled at because we didn't leave a note."

Harry smiled and took slow, deep breaths. "No good deed goes unpunished."

"Well,' said Draco suddenly, jolting Harry out of his hazy fog of fatigue, 'I don't know about you, but I had a nice day. You know, except for the bulk of it where I was nearly killed."

"Speak for yourself."

"Do you think I'd speak for you? I don't even know your language. It's a wonder we even got out of there alive!"

"Hey, if it wasn't for me you'd be dead forty times over already. If it'd been _you_ with the wand that Chimaera would still be eating us."

"What's that meant to mean?"

"Let's be realistic here. I've seen you in class. Your basic spells are usually only fifty-fifty."

"Oh yeah? Well… so's your face!"

"_Ahem_."

Harry's entire body tensed and his first immediate thought was 'ohmygodUmbridgekill' …but then he opened his eyes and was relieved to see no Dolores Umbrigde standing in the doorway, but a shabby looking ex-professor Remus Lupin.

Remus, slightly out of breath, just stared at Harry and Draco on the couch. He suppressed a shiver; the two of them sitting there, completely beaten and dirty and tired reminded him involuntarily of James and Sirius after a particularly rough night of trying to keep him in the Shrieking Shack and not running through the forest. He had almost collapsed with relief when Harry had apparated back into the house earlier, and he had hoped that his composure would have returned by now. A semblance of it had, but looking at Harry now he could feel it crumbling down around him all over again.

Harry sat up a little straighter. "Alright?"

Remus pursed his lips. "I should ask you the same question."

"Skip it,' said Harry, 'what's going on?"

The werewolf hesitated. "Look, I only came in here to tell you… but I don't want you to get how you get…"

"Just tell me!"

"There's another attack happening.' Said Remus softly.

Harry's stomach clenched. "What? Where? When?"

"Now, Kent. We're all going."

With great effort, Harry got to his feet and began staggering over to Remus, every muscle screaming in protest. "Okay, let me get my wand, it's in the kitchen…"

"No, Harry,' said Remus, placing a hand softly on Harry's chest to stop him as he made to pass, 'you're not coming."

"_What_?' snapped Harry, outraged. 'What are you talking about? You're not going anywhere without me!"

"Yes we are,' said Remus firmly. He grabbed Harry by the arms and held him in place. 'I didn't come down here to fetch you, I came down here to let you know why you're bound to find the house empty in a few moments. You're not coming, Harry. You've been through enough tonight without having to go for a second round."

"I can go! I can help!' said Harry. He looked at Draco over his shoulder. 'Tell him!"

Draco, who'd been dozing off, opened his eyes and frowned at Harry. "What? Were you saying something? Look, I don't speak Spanish.

Harry glared.

"I can handle it.' Said Harry determinedly, turning back to Remus.

Remus smiled hopelessly. "Harry, you can barely even stand."

Harry clenched his jaw, loathed that this was happening. Remus was right; if he didn't have a grip on him now, Harry had a very good feeling that he would have been on the floor.

"I have to go now.' Said Remus.

"Where's mum? Is she going?"

"She left with the others just now."

Harry slouched. "Is she still mad?"

Remus sniffed, amused. "That's one word for it, I suppose."

"She didn't come to tell me she was going."

"Something you both seem to be good at, it seems."

Harry blushed. "How bad is it?"

Remus thought. "About thirty strong. We think a lot of them are under Imperious, but they're throwing around the Killing Curse like it's a Tickling Charm. We need to detain them before anyone gets seriously hurt."

"So you're going to go head-first into a place where people are killing without thought or pause?"

"Its what we do."

Harry flinched, thinking of his friends in a place like that without him. What if they got hurt? What if they didn't come home? It was too awful to think about; and what was worse, he wouldn't be there to do anything about it.

Finally, he was beginning to understand why his mother was so mad at him.

"Look, go sit down, or lie down, or slip into unconsciousness, I don't care,' said Remus, gesturing Harry back to the couch, 'just don't do anything strenuous. Relax, recover, and for the love of Merlin don't _go_ anywhere."

"I won't,' Said Harry. And this time, he meant it.

Remus nodded, seemingly satisfied, and after giving Draco one last tired and irritated look, turned on his heel. Harry watched him go, almost in slow motion, when a sudden sense of urgency swept over him and he reached out.

"Remus, wait!"

Remus stopped and turned around. "Yes?"

Harry couldn't say anything for a moment, just gaped stupidly at him. He didn't know where to start, but he had to make him understand in case this was going to be it. In case this was the last chance he was going to get. In case this time he didn't come home.

"I… I just… er…"

Remus just looked at him patiently.

Harry sighed in irritation. "Look, Remus, what I said… the other week… I didn't… that is, I wasn't…"

"It's alright, Harry.' Said Remus, hunched with uneasiness.

"No, it isn't alright,' Said Harry sternly. He stumbled over to Remus and grabbed him by the arms. 'I don't want you to think… I didn't… I didn't mean it, okay? It was mean and stupid and…"

"Harry,' laughed Remus softly, taking him by the shoulders, 'it's alright. I understand."

Harry nodded, feeling relieved. "I'm sorry. I really am."

Remus just smiled at him, and Harry knew their stubborn silence was finally over. Remus placed a hand on his neck, a thumb on his cheek and almost pulled him in for a hug; but he seemed to think better of it at the last minute, for he simply massaged the nape of Harry's neck, gave him one last smile and let him go.

"Feel better,' he said softly.

Harry nodded and slowly made his way back to the couch.

Remus turned to leave, but looked back around at Draco and frowned. "When I get back, you and I are going to have a talk."

"Take a number, get in line,' said Draco flatly.

Remus gave him one last stern look and then left.

-------------

After a long bath in which three bars of soap and an entire bottle of shampoo had been used, Harry was dressed in fresh clothed as he gingerly made his way back downstairs. He'd managed to tidy up his cuts well enough and had burned his clothes, classifying them a lost cause even for the wonders of a washing machine. His stomach grumbled and he rubbed it, willing it to wait just a few more minutes. His trek to the kitchen seemed to be taking an eternity. The entire house was silent, something he was not accustomed to. Even at night there seemed to be some sort of noise going on. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever had peace and quiet like this. It was deafening and overwhelming.

Finally he entered the dining room. Again, he didn't think he could remember the last time it was so empty. There was always someone, mostly Hermione, sitting at the table reading or brewing a potion or just doing something. Harry hated their absence.

His stomach growled again.

Rolling his eyes, he turned to his right and walked through into the kitchen… and stopped.

Draco had his back to Harry. He was doubled over, hands resting on his knees as he peered at the kettle on the stove as if it held millions of secrets. He too was now cleaned up and showered, and his blonde hair was still damp and falling into his face.

"Malfoy?"

Draco looked around. "Potter! Good, get over here this instant!"

"I think you highly underestimate the powers of manners, Malfoy."

"Enough cheek, tell me,' he said, pointing at the kettle as Harry stood level with him, 'how does this thing work?"

"It's got a handle and a spout; how do you think it works?"

"Well, humor me! I'm not a morning person!"

Harry rolled his eyes. He fetched another mug, placed it next to the empty one Draco had already gotten out ready for himself and began making them both their tea. "You really can't half tell you're a spoilt brat, you know. Why don't you just use a little common sense?"

"I hate common sense,' said Draco happily, leaning against the bench and folding his arms over his chest, 'it's so _common_."

"Yeah, well, so are you now.' Muttered Harry.

He pushed one of the steaming cups over to Draco and began to make some cereal. Draco glared at the kettle, muttered 'impudent piece of crockery' and then sat down at the small breakfast table.

Draco was running his slim index finger around the rim of his cup when Harry placed a bowl of cereal in front of him. Draco looked up, surprised as Harry sat down opposite him with his own bowl, not even acknowledging the small, odd gesture.

"I see you bathed,' said Draco, giving Harry a once-over, 'thank goodness. Flies were following you everywhere."

Harry threw him a glare, but Draco was already eating his cereal.

"Tonks fixed you arm?"

Draco nodded.

"What did she say to you?"

"That I was irresponsible, and that I was an idiot, and that she couldn't believe anything that had happened, and other things that I cant remember. I think I'd slipped into unconsciousness while she was yelling at me; she has an oddly soothing voice sometimes."

"Only you could find some woman screeching at you comforting."

"What's that meant to mean?"

"It means you're a freak."

Draco moodily shoveled cereal into his mouth as he glared at Harry across the table.

Harry smirked. "I might want to tell her that. I'm sure she'd find the fact that you actually _like_ something about her to be very interesting."

"Do it and I will rip out your intestines through your nose."

"So you _do_ like her?"

"I _tolerate_ her,' growled Draco, 'which is more than I can say about you right now."

Harry sniggered. Draco gave Harry one last frown and just as he raised the spoon to place into his open mouth, he cried out and jumped. Harry immediately sat up, his eyes wide looking for danger, but he relaxed when he saw what it was sitting on Draco's lap.

"Blasted feline!' snapped Draco, giving Crookshanks a look. 'You don't sneak up on a man while he's eating breakfast! You make noise when you approach. You stomp or… yodel."

"Cats don't yodel."

"Not at all the point, Potter."

Harry watched with interest as Crookshanks settled in Draco's lap and curled up. Draco rested his arm on the table and lazily stroked behind Crookshanks ears as he continued to eat, staring off into space.

"How long have you and Crookshanks been dating then?' asked Harry.

"I like cats,' said Draco simply. 'They're so magnificently selfish. I empathize with cats."

"You do know he's _Hermione's_ cat, right?"

"Shh! I'm trying not to think about it."

Harry rolled his eyes and dug into his own breakfast, his mouth salivating so much it hurt. His knee was bouncing under the table and he desperately wanted to be up doing something, _anything_; but his body ached, and he couldn't do more than carry two bowls two feet to a table and sit down. It was frustrating as all hell; he had a sudden, rash impulsive throb of sympathy for people in wheelchairs.

It was infuriating not being able to help. Harry had always hated being left behind, even when he was a kid. When Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had taken Dudley to the Zoo, or to the Amusement Park, or to the Shopping Centers for ice-cream, or anywhere beyond the four walls of Number 4, Harry was always being left out, or left behind, and while at seven years old you're too young to really feel hate, Harry knew that that's what the feeling was now – hate. He hated not being in on what his friends were doing. He hated that he couldn't be there to fight with them. It wasn't fair. This was _his_ war, wasn't it? It was between him and Voldemort. And they were out there doing all the dirty work while he was stuck at home, eating cereal with Draco Malfoy and trying to recover from being beaten nearly to death.

Life was bollocks.

"Are you going to have a seizure?"

Harry blinked. Draco was looking at him apprehensively. "What? No. Why would you think that?"

"You look constipated."

"I'm just thinking."

"Obviously a new experience for you,' said Draco. 'Don't worry, the first time is always painful, but it will get easier."

Harry stabbed his cereal moodily with his spoon. "Look, its bad enough I get left behind like some ruddy housewife, but sitting here with you…"

Draco rolled his eyes. "As much as it pains me to admit, Lupin had a point. You could barely stand. How did you plan on fighting? Sitting up a tree?"

"I should be there, regardless."

"Oh stop feeling sorry for yourself, will you? It's bad for your complexion."

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself!"

"What is your problem then?"

Harry's nostrils flared as he pounded his spoon into the bowl. "I'm annoyed."

Draco sighed. "A new emotion for you. Your emotional development astounds me."

"You know what would be a welcome change from you?' snapped Harry, '_sincerity_."

"Certainly not. That would destroy my angsty, anti-hero image."

Harry scowled and resumed pummeling his cereal, every oat representing Draco's face. His leg bounced even more forcefully; he was flinching and his skin prickled. He wanted to be out there, despite what his body wanted. He had to see for himself that his friends were going to be alright.

Draco looked up as Harry got to his feet. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to help."

"Don't be stupid."

"Don't _push me_, Malfoy!' snapped Harry, jabbing a finger at Draco warningly.

"You don't even know where they've gone!' said Draco irritably. 'Just put your ridiculous hero complex aside for one second and use that brain you claim to possess. You're in no shape to be haring off and fighting Death Eaters who, I assure you, are in fare better shape that you are at the moment. So why don't you build a bridge, get over yourself and just sit _down_."

Harry's eyes widened as, if by some invisible force, something seemed to ram into the back of his knees and send him crashing back into his seat. He looked over at Draco who was looking at him, eyes wide with surprise.

Harry sat up straighter. "Did… did _you_ do that?"

Draco opened and closed his mouth a few times. "I… don't know. I think maybe I did!"

Harry scowled, but Draco looked as if all his Christmases had come at once.

"Ha! Victory upon you, Potter! I can do wandless magic!"

"So can a four-year-old girl, you twit."

"But not because she _wants_ to!' beamed Draco. 'Behold my magical prowess! Grr to you and your wand! I am a part of the elite, Potter!"

Harry shook his head. "You made my knees buckle. Lets not start polishing a medal."

Draco's eyebrows rose. "I get a medal?"

Harry frowned at him. "Why did you do it anyway?"

"Who wouldn't if there's a shiny gold medal involved."

"Malfoy, I'm serious,' said Harry firmly. 'Why did you stop me? What do you care if I go and get myself killed? Isn't that what you want? Me dead?"

Draco didn't answer. He stirred his soggy cereal with his spoon, the other hand stroking Crookshanks head softly in lazy circles. His lip was slightly curled upward in a sneer; Harry couldn't tell if he was mad with him, or with himself for being openly concerned. Harry could never tell with him.

Harry considered him. "Do you think you're good?"

Draco looked up. "What?"

"I mean, do you think you're a good person?"

"Hey, come on, I'm trying to eat breakfast here."

Harry just gave him a look.

Draco sighed and sat back in his seat. Crookshanks moved around so his feet were on Draco's chest, his head cradled in Draco's neck. Draco smiled and petted him slowly from the head down, Crookshanks tail curling as he purred. It was the oddest sight; Harry hadn't ever thought him of being so calm or gentle before.

"No,' he said finally, 'do you think _you're_ a good person?"

"Yes."

"And why is that?"

"I don't murder people.' Snapped Harry.

"I do,' said Draco.

Harry was stunned by his blatant honesty. Draco's tone had held no tone of pleasure, or arrogance, or excitement in it, just a low blunt tone of fact; of defeat.

"I do,' he repeated, staring off into space, 'if I have to."

"Why?' asked Harry. It was the question he'd been burning to ask someone, anyone, to make sense of it all. 'Do you even know why they sent you?"

Draco shrugged. "It's not my place to ask."

"Bullshit,' snapped Harry. 'You must know why. You must have some idea! Was it because of your father?"

"Don't you even _mention_ my father,' snarled Draco.

"He was disgraced, right? Was that why? Don't bother answering, I know that's why.' said Harry, ignoring Draco. 'He made a fool out of himself…"

"Because of you!' yelled Draco.

"… and you were forced to pick up the pieces!' continued Harry. 'You were the one who had to pay for what your father did. Voldemort knew that you wanted it, and he knew that you would do anything to get in, so he made you go after Dumbledore knowing you would fail."

"Shut _up_.' growled Draco, shaking his head.

"And I bet you thought you could take him, didn't you?' snapped Harry. 'I bet your head was so fat you thought you could kill the greatest wizard of all time! But you couldn't, and now look at you! You could have stayed in school; you could have had a life! You blabber on to me about my choices, but what about yours?"

"You don't know a thing about me, Potter!' snarled Draco.

"Why don't you tell me then?' retorted Harry. 'Why don't you explain it all to me?"

"It's none of your business!"

"If you want to continue living here it damn-well is my bloody business!'

"Do I interrogate you about your lifestyle?' yelled Draco; his cheeks flushed pink with anger. 'Do I demand to know how your mind works? Do I want to know why you do the things you do? _No_. Now, be a good chap, Potter, and show me the same courtesy I show you and not give a flying Hippogriff!"

Harry sighed. "You know, children don't have to make the same mistakes as their parents. Sirius made the right choice, so did Tonks's mum. You could have done the same thing."

Draco glared at him. "I'm here, aren't I? Isn't that saying something?"

"It says you had nowhere else to go, and you went to the only person you knew who had any sort of conscience and moral decency left."

"Nymphadora didn't have to take me in,' said Draco, 'that was _her_ choice. It may have been a bad one, and it probably was, but I don't hear you holding it against her."

"Her choice didn't get anyone killed,' said Harry.

Draco let out a cry of annoyance. "You think I wanted this to happen? Do you think I wanted things to turn out like this? All I wanted was my family back!"

Harry blinked. "You… what?"

"Yes, that's right, my family!' snapped Draco. 'As hard as it might be for you to believe, Potter, I love my Mother and Father. Imagine how you would feel to see your father in jail, how you would feel to see your mother in anguish, a shadow of her former self, unable to cope with the grief and the misery of loosing her husband! The Dark Lord offered me a way to get it all back. To get _them_ back. To get things back to the way they were before, when we were together. He told me I had to get Dumbledore out of the way. That was all. That was all I needed to do, and everything would be fine again. He told me if I succeeded, I would be welcome back with open arms. That he would get my father out of jail. That he would forgive him and that we would all be rewarded. It was all that I wanted. And I didn't care what I had to do. I was going to succeed, and I was going to make the Dark Lord proud. I was going to make my Father proud. I was going to save my family, and bring us honor beyond my Fathers' wildest hopes and dreams. And yes, I got Dumbledore killed, and nearly Weasley and that Bell girl on your Quidditch team… and I'm learning to live with that! Don't sit there and preach to me about choices, Potter! You don't know anything about the choices I've made!"

"They've been the wrong choices.' Said Harry.

"_Wrong_?' snapped Draco. 'Define 'wrong'."

"The general definition is 'not right'…' said Harry.

"But that could just as easily mean 'left'.' Said Draco. 'Do you have an objection to doing things that are left?"

Harry said nothing.

Draco exhaled slowly through his nose. "Just because something doesn't follow your 'How to Be a Good Little Gryffindor' Codebook, doesn't mean it's wrong. I did what I had to do to protect my family, and you and yours would do exactly the same. You're no different than me."

"I'm _nothing_ like you.' Snapped Harry. 'I wouldn't kill someone for what I want."

"But you _will_!' said Draco. 'What do you think you're going through all this for? You think you'll just arrest the Dark Lord and that will be it? You know it won't be just as much as I do. That won't be enough. That won't be enough for _you_. You want him finished. You want him dead. Not just for revenge, but to keep your family safe – _just like me_."

Harry flinched. He didn't want to be anything like Draco. He was the poster boy of Slytherin; arrogant, selfish, mean, antagonistic, racist, _blonde_… and then Harry realized something. So was he. Just by thinking that he was nothing like Draco, by thinking he was better than him, made him everything that he despised. At their core, they were both the same, and apparently both fighting for the same things – their families. Harry needed to start practicing what he preached; tolerance. His mother had been right after all.

"I don't think I'm even in the vicinity of good, Potter.' Said Draco after a long pause. 'I have no false illusions of myself. I'm a monster. What I did was… evil. I know that. And I know the only reason I'm still here isn't because I'm useful, or because I'm an asset to your cause. It's because your family won't let you kill me."

Harry folded his arms over his chest. "You seem pretty comfortable for someone who doesn't really want to be here."

"Nymphadora was right,' said Draco wincing at the terrible fact, 'it was either this or the Death Eaters. Personally, I like living. Life is a highly under-rated privilege – just ask your mother. And if living means I have to put up with you cretins, then I'll do it."

"You weren't happy with the Death Eaters?' asked Harry, a little surprised.

Draco shrugged. "They had terrible social skills. Plus, their décor hurt my eyes.

"And there's that whole '_We'll kill you viciously and painfully if you betray us'_ motto of theirs that they live by,' added Harry.

"Yes, that too."

"I would have thought you'd be in heaven with them,' said Harry, 'they're just like you after all. You were with your family. Well, some of them anyway."

Draco smirked without humor. "That might be good enough reason for you, but for me…' he trailed off and had another mouthful of his cereal.

"It wasn't what you expected?"

"No, it was everything I expected.' Said Draco.

"Well, then…"

"Can we not discuss this?' said Draco shortly.

Harry flushed, actually feeling guilty. He was prying into someone's personal business, and an old twinge of Aunt Petunia scolding him for asking too many questions and being so fiercely curious about things that had nothing to do with him made him flinch. But he was intrigued now, and he just had to ask one more question.

"Do you… miss your parents?'

Draco looked up at Harry through his blonde fringe. His grey eyes were piercing, and for a moment Harry wondered if he'd pushed him too far. But after the longest moment, Draco looked down at Crookshanks and his shoulders slumped.

"Sod off, Potter."

Harry considered him for a long moment, and then stood up.

Draco looked up at him in alarm. "Whoa, Potter, it was just an expression! What are you doing?"

"I'm going out."

"Out? _Now_? Where?"

"Just out.' Said Harry. He pulled his wand out of his pocket. 'I'll be back before the others get home."

"And if you're not?' said Draco. 'You just got scolded for going out by yourself and now you're going to do it _again_? Have you no regard for your life at _all_?"

Harry laughed. "What are they going to do to me?"

"It's called 'death', and it would be in your best interests to avoid it."

"I won't be long.' Said Harry. He made to leave, but stopped at the door to the kitchen and turned around. 'Try not to get into any trouble while I'm gone, yeah?"

Draco scoffed. "I'll be too busy getting pummeled for letting you out of this house!"

Harry shrugged. "Just say I kicked your ass."

And before Draco could retort, Harry apparated out.

"Idiot,' muttered Draco. He sighed and looked down at Crookshanks. "Well, just you and me then, old chap!"

Crookshanks squashed face looked up at him for a moment, and then he promptly leapt up off Draco's lap and trotted out of the room, tail high in the air.

---------------

Lily was beginning to think that she didn't even need to know where it was, but that all she needed to do was think of Harry and she would be there with him. Wherever he was she seemed to be able to find him without hardly any effort. It also helped that he was as predictable as Big Ben.

She looked down at him down, seated on the floor in front of him. He had his knees drawn up to him and his elbows on his knees, his forehead in the palm of his hand and his fingers woven in his pitch black hair. His shoulders were slumped and he looked like he'd been sitting there for hours. The midday sun was shining above him, making him glow as if a halo were around him. A light breeze ruffled his hair and made his shirt billow out behind him, but he didn't even flinch. He seemed to be in his own little world; he hadn't even heard her approach.

Without a word, she stepped completely into the room, sat down beside him and hugged her knees to her chest, mimicking his position.

He looked around at her and blinked. "Oh, hi."

Lily smiled at him. "Hello."

"All over then?"

"All over."

"And… everyone…"

"Everyone's fine.' Said Lily reassuringly.

Harry let out a slow breath of relief, nodded and then resuming his staring into the horizon.

Lily flicked hair out of her eyes. "How long have you been sitting here?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know."

"I thought Remus told you not to leave the house."

Harry pursed his lips, trying not to smile.

Lily sighed, shaking her head with a smile. She looked around the room, squinting against the sun. "I had a feeling you'd be here."

"How did you know?"

"I'm your mother, I know everything.' She grinned. 'I'm just not sure on the 'why'. Draco was a bit hysterical; he kept trying to put the kitchen table between us. I think he was afraid I was going to leap at him. He only said that you'd left a few hours ago."

Harry squared his shoulders and looked around. It was exactly the way it had been when he and his mother had been there months prior. The entire wall blown out, furniture littering the floor, the walls scorched and black; the only fixed thing in the entire nursery was his crib Lily had repaired.

Lily leaned back on her hands and looked at him. "So do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"I just had to get out of the house."

"And come to this one?"

Harry shrugged. "I needed somewhere to think."

"About?"

"Stuff."

Lily laughed. "Honestly, you boys and your emotional walls…you need a ten tonne wrecking ball to get through them."

Harry didn't bite, just looked out into the back garden through the massive hole in the wall.

Lily considered him carefully. It was obvious something was on his mind, and if he'd come back to Godric's Hollow to think on it it must have had something to do either with her, the both of them, or his closest family, Hermione and Ron.

She changed tactics.

"So… you had a shower."

Harry snorted. "You didn't think I'd stay like that forever, did you?"

"I sincerely hope my sister taught you better personal hygiene than that!"

"She did, don't worry.' He looked around at her and arched an eyebrow. 'You might want to have a shower yourself. You look terrible."

"Harry, you have the sensitivity of… well, something lacking sensitivity.' She said with a hopeless sigh. 'You can't just tell a woman she looks terrible like that!"

"But you do. What is that…_clay_? Where the hell did you guys go?"

Lily looked out onto the horizon, the breeze flowing through her hair. "You really don't want to know."

Harry rested his chin on his shoulder as he looked around at her. "Ron, Hermione… they alright?"

"A little rattled, but otherwise just fine."

He pursed his lips. "Are they mad at me?"

Lily sighed and sat up, crossing her legs. "Could you really blame them?"

Harry shook his head. "No. But I'd prefer it if they weren't, to be honest."

"No-one likes it when someone is mad at them,' said Lily, 'I know I used to hate it when Petunia would…' she trailed off. Harry looked around at her. She gave him a quick smile to hide the pain and continued. 'The point is that it's hard when the people we care about the most are mad at us. But the important thing here is that you understand _why_ they're upset. Do you?"

"When you all left without me, I was so anxious I couldn't sit still.' He said, looking back out to the sky. 'It was maddening, not knowing where you were or what you were going through. All I wanted was to be there to help; to make sure you were alright."

"And how did it make you feel?' asked Lily. 'Being left behind like that."

Harry thought for a moment. "Frustrated. Annoyed. Worried."

Lily nodded. "Times that by sixty, and you may just begin to discover how I was feeling last night."

Harry looked around at her again. She wasn't looking at him, but at the room, no doubt reminiscing over each inch of it. She looked thoughtful and exhausted, but he expected her to be a little sadder. Why wasn't she crying? Why wasn't she stricken with grief?

He frowned. "Do you miss dad?"

Lily looked around at him and frowned. "What? Of course I do! Why on earth would you think I don't miss him?"

"Well, you never cry.' He said. 'I've never seen you cry over him once. You don't talk about what happened in here that night. You don't walk around in a miserable heap. You just don't seem to grieve at all."

"I grieve,' she said softly, her green eyes boring into his, 'I grieve more than anyone should. Sometimes it hurts so much I feel like my heart is being ripped right out of my chest. Sometimes I miss him so much I can't stand it. I don't want you to see me like that.' Her voice cracked and she looked away, his face suddenly too hard to look at. 'I loved him, Harry. I loved him so much, and every day I miss him more than I did the day before. When I came back, when I finally got my memories back, then I cried. I cried my little green eyes out until I had no tears left, and even then I cried some more. I cried for him, and I cried for you. But I had almost a year of that, Harry, before I finally got the courage to come find you. I had to try to get through it for your sake. I didn't want to show up an emotional mess. I'm your mother; I had to be the strong one. I had to support you. I had to take care of you."

"It's not your job to take care of me,' said Harry, 'it's your job to teach me how to take care of myself."

"Well, it's obvious that I don't need to teach you that,' she said, raising an eyebrow, 'so I'm going to take care of you instead, and too bad if you don't want me to."

Harry smiled. "You really loved dad, then?"

Lily laughed. "Oh yes, Harry. I loved him oh so much.' She considered him thoughtfully. 'Do you miss him?"

"How can I miss him?' said Harry. 'I didn't even know him."

"That doesn't mean you can't still grieve for him.' She said softly.

She reached out and rubbed his back soothingly. Maybe her original idea had been wrong. Way back when, when she was still going through physical therapy and psych assessments at the Rehabilitation Facility, she had gone over and over in her head how she would handle the subject of James with Harry when it eventually came up. After many hours to trying to work out how to help someone she didn't even know, she had eventually come to the conclusion that he would need space, like any other normal teenage boy. She would give him the time he needed and be there ready if he ever needed her. She had resolved that she would not bother him with her own feelings and that she would be strong and not let him see her in such a state. That she would be strong for him. But now, looking back, that seemed to be the most ridiculous solution she could have ever come up with. She could see now that he wanted to see her grief. He _needed_ to see her grief. He needed something he could relate to, something he could share with her. They needed to start doing things together, not just at the same time.

"So…' said Harry casually, breaking her out of her train of thought, '…he didn't…force you to marry him or anything?"

Lily frowned. "What's this now?"

Harry blushed. "Well, you just… it's… didn't you hate him when you were younger?"

She gave him a look. "Who's been in your ear, then? Did Sirius tell you that?"

"No, I just…found out.' Said Harry. 'So what happened?"

Lily pursed her lips into a smile and heaved a big, dramatic sigh. "Yes, alright, I suppose its common knowledge that I wasn't particularly fond of him when we were younger. He was stuck-up and arrogant and pushy and thought he was God's gift to women with that stupid thing he did with his hair…' she laughed and ran a hand through his hair, demonstrating. 'But oh, he could be lovely when he wanted to be. They were hard times, and a lot of people were forced to become more grown-up than they should have been. After your Grandfather got sick in our sixth year he grew up a lot. He turned into his considerate, selfless, brave, strong young man and, well… he _was_ pretty cute."

Harry smiled. "You didn't like him at all in his younger years?"

"Certainly not! He was a fat-headed pillock, regardless of his good looks and his gorgeous thick hair, and his chocolate brown eyes and, his strong arms and oh, what a bum…"

"Okay, mum, quiet now!" laughed Harry, putting hands over his hears.

Lily laughed and rubbed his shoulder. "Put your mind at ease, Harry. I loved James very much, despite how we started off, and I always will. Just because two people start off despising each other, doesn't mean it will stay that way. After all, look at Ron and Hermione."

Harry smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "I should talk to them."

"Best idea you've had all day.' She laughed. 'Come on, let's get back. You can beg Ron and Hermione for mercy and I'll see what I can do about this Horcrux."

She got to her feet, dusted herself off and held a hand out for Harry. He took her offered hand and let her help him up. He watched as she dusted his shoulders off with a motherly flair, her wrists flicking in that rolling way that all mothers seem to instinctively possess; as if they could just bat their child's bothers away with a simple flick of the wrist.

"I'm sorry.' He said softly.

Lily looked up at him. She sighed, took his face in his hands and pulled him down so she could plant a soft kiss on his scar. "I know you are, but just saying sorry doesn't make it all alright. You know that, right?"

Harry nodded. "I know."

"Good. And I'm sorry I slapped you, even thought you did deserve it."

"I know that too."

"You sure know a lot.' She smiled. 'Sitting here for hours has made you wise. I feel I should write a book about it."

Harry smiled as she began to clamber over the rubble for the door hanging off its hinges. "Mum?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think, maybe… when all this is over… you and I could move back in here?"

Lily stopped.

She looked around from the doorway, her expression unreadable. "You… want to move back here?"

"Yeah, sure.' Said Harry. 'I don't want to live at Grimmauld Place for the rest of my life, and I bet you don't either. We've got our house right here. We could fix it up. And you and me… maybe we could live here again, just the two of us."

Lily's brow knotted together in a slight frown. Her jaw was set, and Harry wondered if maybe he shouldn't have opened his mouth after all. He'd been dying to ask her that question ever since they'd come back there all those months ago. He wanted a real house for the two of them, not Sirius's old house. _Their_ old house.

The silence continued for what seemed an eternity, and Lily still had not said anything or even moved a muscle, just stared at him.

Harry cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "No, you're right, stupid idea. Of course. Come on, lets just…"

"No, Harry,' said Lily, stepping in front of him as he made to walk past her, 'I'm sorry, I just...' she paused, took a deep breath and let it out again. Standing this close, Harry could now see her eyes brimming with tears.

"It's too much.' He nodded. 'I get it."

"No, it's not too much.' Said Lily urgently. She smiled and took his face in her hands. 'I think that's a brilliant idea."

Harry's spirits rose. "You do?"

Lily laughed and pulled him in for a hug. Harry let out a short laugh and returned her embrace, his eyes squeezing shut. It was overwhelming to think that someday they would both live together, just the two of them, mother and son in their old house. Never in his wildest dreams could he ever imagined that the thing he'd wanted most for himself his entire life was actually going to come true.

When she pulled back there were tears falling down her face now, but she was laughing. "Oh God, to think! I could have my kitchen back! And my living room! And my bedroom, and oh… Harry, you'll need a lot of blankets." She said, looking around the room.

"What for?"

"Well, it'll get a bit draughty in here, don't you think?' she said, pointing to the massive wall blown out.

Harry rolled his eyes as she laughed at her own joke. "Everyone's a comedian."

* * *

A/N – Another chapter, my pretties! I have a feeling that this story may go on for quite a few more chapters. I'm sorry if this bothers any of you so, but I'd rather have it long and add in everything I feel crucial, than make it short and cut things out. I realize that forty plus chapters is overwhelming, and I really do appreciate that you've all come this far with me! Hopefully you'll continue to stick with me until the end, whether it be bitter or sweet!

Please review!


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42!

* * *

When they looked back on it, they would always remember the next few months as a blur. A long, violent, high-octane, frustrating blur.

Things seemed to be growing more and more tense by the day for everyone, even the muggles. Friends were turning on each other, hidden prejudices were being revealed, loyalties were being tested and people were being made to make choices they didn't want to make. Arthur Weasley, Mad-eye Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Tonks would often return home and report at least two fights breaking out within in the Ministry itself nearly every day. Everyone was suspicious of each other, trusting no-one and walking around with their shoulders hunched, peering over their shoulders as if expecting Voldemort himself to be standing there behind them. People were loosing faith in the Aurors and the Ministry, and word on the street was that Scrimgeour wasn't having a very good time dealing with it all.

Harry couldn't be bothered trying to find any sort of sympathy for him.

But the Ministry wasn't the only place there was visible strain. Aside from Diagon Alley, which was more like an abandoned alleyway now aside from Weasley Wizards Wheezes, people didn't seem to want to go outside their front door anymore. Those who did didn't bother hiding their concern and would carry their wand out in broad daylight gripped tightly in their hands, even in the middle of muggle London. The Muggles couldn't for the life of them understand the purpose of carrying a stick around. Was it a new teenage fad? Was it some sort of promotion for a new product? Were they doing some sort of scientific, top secret, social experiment? Most of them just put it out of their minds; although Ron had said he'd seen some woman reprimanding her four year old son in the middle of the street one day because he had been carrying around a twig from the backyard for two weeks straight and had still would not let it go.

It seemed that those who had tried desperately to stay out of the war were finally beginning to find that they may have no choice. Over time, more and more people had come out of hiding and ultimately done what they had struggled for so long not to do – pick a side. Out of fear, the most powerful of emotions it seemed among the masses, most had flocked to the side of the Death Eaters, thus Voldemort's numbers had grown exponentially. But the upside of this was that the determined, level headed ones had turned to the Order. Finding the Order wasn't as hard as it had once been. They were no longer a rumor or legend; all that had happened last year at Hogwarts had proved their existence, and for the persistent few all they had to do was keep their ear to the ground and talk to the right people. But, like the Death Eaters, the Order was conscious of new comers, and the inner circle was still as impenetrable as it had ever been.

Seated at the head of the table again now, Harry looked at the people seated with him in turn. They were in the middle of another Order meeting, and Kingsley was up out of his chair with a conjured map of England hovering behind him, pointing at various locations with his wand. His deep voice echoed off the walls, and it's melodically tone was making Harry drowsy. Then again, even listening to Draco's constant whining about not being let out of the house and something to do with the delicate tone of his skin would make Harry drowsy. He had not been sleeping well at all, and his head constantly ached.

Ignoring the throb in his scar now, Harry continued to look around the table. Hermione was seated on his left, listening intently and taking notes as Kingsley talked as if she were back in class. Her shoulders were hunched and her eyes were red and she looked exhausted. Harry was glad to see her out of the den for a change. She had begun spending almost all of her time there researching and brewing potions that Harry hadn't the foggiest idea were for. She was under a great deal of stress, and although she tried to hide it Harry could tell. Death Eater attacks on muggles were becoming more and more frequent, and he knew that even with the fact that the Order had put every precautionary protection spell on her parents house they could think of, her mind was still no more at ease. Harry suspected that if it weren't for Ron doing whatever it was he did to calm her she would have completely lost her mind by now.

Harry looked down the table, past Tonks, Bill, Fleur and Charlie and looked at Ron. He was sitting back in his chair, his demeanor calm as he too paid attention to the information Kingsley was sharing, but at the same time throwing small glances up the table every now and then in the direction of Hermione. The changes in his best friend these past few months were almost unbelievable. He wasn't as quick to loose as temper anymore, even with Draco. He would be patient, and listen carefully, and if Harry had to compare him to anyone it would have been Bill. He was still the same Ron, however, aside from all these little changes. He was still inappropriately timed, still had the best sense of humor despite their serious situation, still loud and awkward and all the things that made Ron, Ron. Harry knew that he himself, like Hermione, probably would have gone barmy too if Ron wasn't there; Hermione too. They kept him grounded and sane, and although he wished he could spare them the stress they were both going through he was, at the same time, glad they were there with him.

On the other side of Ron was Lily. Her hair was up in a ponytail again; she had her arms folded over her chest and was, like everyone else, listening to Kingsley. She didn't seem as tired as Ron or Hermione, probably because she'd been through it all before and knew how to handle herself. Normally Remus would sit beside her, but he was upstairs with Draco making sure he didn't get into any mischief or try to hear what was going on in the meeting.

He continued to look around the table. McGonagall, Doge, Hagrid, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley… all of them looked completely wrung out. Harry wondered if, in their own secret get-togethers, Voldemort would look around at his Death Eaters and see them just as tired. The Death Eaters never seemed as wary as the Order did; no rest for the wicked.

"… need to start focusing on specific points around the country,' Kingsley was saying as Harry tuned back in, 'if, Merlin forbid, You-know-who…"

"_Voldemort_,' sighed Harry impatiently.

The table rippled with a collective flinch that only Lily, Hermione and Ron seemed to be immune to.

Kingsley cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yes, _Him_… Merlin forbid if he wins, if we can't stop him, we need to have a back-up plan."

"What good eez a back-up plan if we are all dead?' said Fleur loudly. 'Iznt zat what we 'ave all sworn to? Zat we will not surrender to 'im? That we will defend ourselves to our very last breath? If zis is indeed true, zere will be no one left to be putting any sort of back-up plan into place!"

"He's talking about if we're _overthrown_,' snapped Hermione, still scribbling furiously on her parchment. Harry suspected she had only just managed to refrain from adding in the word 'idiot'. 'If Voldemort manages to get an advantage and we become completely outnumbered and overthrown, we need a plan so we can regroup and try again. But that's not really going to happen, is it? We _are_ going to win.'

She glanced up at Harry. He smiled at her, and she graced him with one in return.

"Miss Granger, lets not be confident to the point of foolishness,' Said Kingsley. 'While I do admire your determination, we need to cover all points of this war. There is no doubt that The Dark Lord will have his own plans for another round should we defeat them. It is war tactics, plain and simple."

"Something we should _not_ be discussing in front of the children.' Said Mrs. Weasley, giving Ron a meaningful look.

"Mum, pull your head in, will you?' snapped Ron suddenly. 'How many times do we have to go through this? I'm an adult now! I'm of age! And I'm in this war just as much as you are, or Dad or Bill or Charlie or any of you lot! I'm a part of the Order now, and you're just going to have to get used to it!"

Mrs. Weasley inflated. She was red in the face and looked ready to explode with anger. Obviously not trusting herself to speak, she hit her husband in the chest. "Arthur, talk to your son!"

Mr. Weasley sighed and looked at an irritated Ron across the table. "Ron, don't talk to your mother like that."

"Arthur!"

"Mum!"

Kingsley cleared his throat again. "Uh, meeting adjourned!"

No-one needed telling twice. Everyone quickly stood from their chairs and began talking about anything on their way out of the room as Mr. Weasley took a livid Mrs. Weasley out first; leaving Ron glaring at them as they left.

"How old are we again?' muttered Hermione, grabbing Harry's attention. 'Do we need to have out pacifiers shoved in our mouths? _Honestly_."

"Your parents are the same,' he said, watching as she briskly began to pack up her things, 'and you know what Mrs. Weasley is like. She's only worried."

"Ron is capable.' Snapped Hermione.

Harry frowned. "Yeah, I know that."

She looked up at him and sighed. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to snap."

"Tell that to my head rolling across the floor."

"She's just so hard on him sometimes,' whispered Hermione, leaning in close so only Harry could hear, 'talking down to him, telling him that he had no right to be here when two of his brothers are already in… it just doesn't seem fair. He's better than what people give him credit for."

"She's just worried about him,' repeated Harry softly. He looked up the end of the table where Ron was talking to Bill, his jaw clenched and his shoulders hunched as Bill tried to calm him down. 'We all are."

Hermione gave Harry a look. "We're worried about you too."

Harry smiled and sat back in his seat. "And I'm worried about you. We're just a big bunch of worry-warts, stuck in a worrying vortex of worriness."

"I'm being serious.' She laughed, hitting him playfully.

"Something n-n-new for you," yawned Harry, stretching.

Hermione frowned at him. 'You're still not sleeping well?"

"I get by.' He said softly.

"You know, I can really …"

"_No_, Hermione,' said Harry firmly, 'for the five hundredth time, I don't want any Dreamless Sleep potion. A doped up hero is no-one's friend."

"You wouldn't be _doped up_, Harry!' huffed Hermione. 'I want to give you a potion, not Marijuana. _Honestly_!"

"I don't want it.' Said Harry, his tone final. A much as his nightmares and visions annoyed the living daylights out of him, he was still optimistic that one day Voldemort would slip and Harry would discover something useful. But if he was having dreamless sleep, he would discover nothing.

Hermione sighed and stood up. "Alright, fine. But the offer is still open."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, I know you're only trying to help."

She gave him a courteous nod and headed over to Ron who was still talking to Bill. Harry watched from his chair as Hermione put her papers down on the table, walked around Bill and slid her arms around Ron from behind. Although Ron was still listening to Bill, his face instantly softened and he seemed to exhale in relief; he put his hands over hers and softly scratched her knuckles with the tips of his fingers. Hermione said nothing, just laid her chin on Ron's shoulder and peered over him, listening also to what Bill was saying. Harry smiled, pushing aside his awkwardness of witnessing another private moment of theirs. He wished someone could set his mind at ease like that.

"Hey, Harry!"

Harry blinked, zoned back into reality and looked up at the happy face peering down at him. "Oh, hi Charlie. Sorry, I was off with the faeries."

Charlie laughed and ran a hand through his red hair. "I can leave you alone if you want to go back with them."

"No, I'm done.' Said Harry, getting to his feet.

"How are you holding up?' asked Charlie, clapping Harry on the back.

Harry sighed and half-shrugged. "Yeah, alright. A crazy maniac is trying to kill us all and I'm the only one who can stop him and every day he grows stronger and I have no idea how to defeat him… but hey, it happens."

Charlie snorted. "Right. Dumb question. Sorry, mate."

"That's okay. How long are you back in England for?"

"As long as I'm needed."

"They won't miss you in Romania?"

"Are you kidding? Of course they will!' laughed Charlie. 'A good looking stud like me? I'll be shocked if they survive the deprivation."

Harry smiled, glad that Charlie seemed to be doing alright. Looking at him now, joking and laughing, it seemed hard to believe that in another raid in downtown London just the week prior they had almost lost him completely. Charlie being Charlie, he had run head-first into a group of several Death Eaters who were closing around Bill and tried to take them all on himself. Bill had been knocked unconscious, and when he woke up a few moments later Charlie was gone. After a few minutes of panicked searching, Charlie had finally stumbled out of an alleyway, beaten and bruised and totally incoherent. Everyone, especially the Weasley's, had been out of their minds with worry, but after only a few hours Charlie had seemed fine once more. Harry knew Bill had been the most relieved out of everyone.

"Speaking of deprivation…' said Charlie, leaning in close, '… I hear you're not getting much sleep."

Harry sighed. "What, was there some sort of memo sent out?"

"No, just me being nosy.' Said Charlie. 'Look, I don't mean to pry but… well, I know how much Ron cares about you; you're practically the George to his Fred, and… I just… look, what I'm trying to say is, that makes you family, and being the second oldest I want to be looking out for my little brothers."

Harry blinked, taken back. Charlie had never indicated that he felt this way about Harry before. It was odd, to imagine some older sibling looking out for him.

"Er… thank you, Charlie."

Charlie smiled, clapped Harry on the back once more and headed off over to Bill. Ron and Hermione, who were finally finished listening to whatever words of wisdom Bill had been sharing, made their way over, smiling at Charlie as their paths crossed.

"What'd he want?' asked Ron, jerking his head.

"Nothing really,' said Harry, unsure if he should tell Ron what Charlie had said.

"I want to go upstairs,' said Hermione, putting a hand on Ron's arm, 'I have more potions to brew and they need time to stew before…"

"They turn into dew?' offered Ron.

Harry laughed. Hermione glared.

"You're up there every bloody day you insane woman,' sighed Ron, 'have a day off or your hair's going to turn purple from all the fumes. Your brain will turn into pudding. Your eyes will dry up and shrivel and you'll need stupid horrendous glasses to see anything."

Harry scowled and adjusted his glasses.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That is not true."

"That's what Trelawney used to think,' said Ron, his eyebrows arched, 'and look at her now. Heed my advice!"

"When you give good advice, I will heed it.' Said Hermione stiffly. 'Now, if you'll both excuse me, I have a brain to melt."

And with a dignified upward tilt of her jaw, she turned on her heel and marched off.

Ron watched her go with a long, happy sigh. "I love that girl. She's so obsessive and scary."

"The secret to every good relationship,' said Harry, 'fear and neurosis."

"Why does she work herself into the ground, do you reckon?' asked Ron.

"Cause she's Hermione, and she doesn't know how else to do things.' Said Harry simply. 'You of all people must know that."

"But you'd think she would have found a new way to do things by now!' said Ron.

Harry shrugged. "I think there are eaiser things to do than try to understand Hermione. Like nail water to a tree."

Ron sighed and held his hand out. "Cheers to that, brother."

Harry slapped him a high-five.

"Potter!"

Harry and Ron looked around to see Professor McGonagall standing behind them, an unreadbale expression on her face as always.

Ron smiled. "Professor."

"Mr Weasley, would you mind if I spoke with Potter for a moment?"

"No, not at all,' said Ron, already backing away, 'I have a girlfriend's sanity to save."

Harry smiled, Ron left, and now the room was completely empty save for his old Head of House and himself. Harry was well aware of the awkward pause; he'd never been alone with her for a good reason before.

"Don't worry, Potter,' said McGonagall, 'I'm not going to give you detention."

"Thanks, that'd be kinda awkward.' Said Harry.

"Normally this is where I ask you how you are and how you are handling things, but I think I would be right in saying you've been asked that question a ridiculosly large amount in the past few weeks and are no doubt sick of it down to the very last syllable, yes?"

Harry blinked. "Er…"

"Let's just skip the pleasentries then, shall we?' said McGonagall.

Harry didn't have time to answer, but in the brief moment it took for her to reach into her robes and pull out her wand and two tiny objects, he decided that he was glad she was so short and to the point. It was a nice change.

McGonagall placed the two little objects on the table beside them and paused. "I should have rightfully given these two you months ago, but with all that's been happening at the school, and with this war…' she paused again and looked down at the table, '… polotics you don't need to worry about."

"Professor, what are those?"

"These…' she pursed her lips, '… these were left for you. From Albus."

Harry's stomach clenched. He rarely talked about Dumbledore to anyone; only Ron or Hermione or Lily, and even they had to force it out of him. Thinking of Dumbledore brought up too many memories, too many regrets, and he didn't want his feelings about Dumbledore to turn into resentment. So it was a strange new experience to be talking about it with McGonagall, one of the few people he'd never imagined having such a conversation with.

He cleared his throat. "Dumbledore… left something for me?"

"He left me instructions to give these to you,' said McGonagall regally, 'in case he…"

Another awkward pause.

McGonagall cleared her throat and pulled herself together. "Well, here…"

She tapped the first tiny little object and enlarged it. Harry recognised it immediately and felt a surge of frustration.

"I haven't meddled with it at all, if that's what you're worried about,' said McGonagall, mistaking his expression. 'Everything is as it was when the two of you were fiddling with it; all the memories in tact."

Harry ran a finger around the rim of the Pensieve slowly, the blue flames licking gently at his hand and wrist. He spared a thought for the Ravenclaw Pensieve they had destroyed months ago. Had Dumbledore known about it? Was it to be next on their list after the locket? Were they meant to rob a museum together? He supposed he would never find out.

He nodded stifly. "Thank you."

"And there's this as well, although I don't know what you're meant to do with it…"

She tapped the second tiny object and enlarged it back to its original size. Harry blinked, shocked. He agreed with her. What _was_ he meant to do with it?

Godric Gryffindor's sword lie gleaming within its glass cabinet, still as sparkling and beautiful as they day Harry had pulled it out of the Sorting Hat – minus the Basalisk blood, of course. Harry touched the cool glass hesitently with the tips of his fingers; his heart was racing.

McGonagall put a hand on the top of the case. "I don't pretend to know anything about the inner workings of Albus's mind, I was never foolish enough to attempt. But I do know that his actions always have good reasons behind them, and although I may not understand I'm sure there's a reason he gave this to you."

"You mean, aside from it being marvelously pretty?"

"Potter, you haven't changed."

Harry looked at her, expecting another 'look', but she was smiling at him hopelessly. It was a startling change to her apperance.

He ran his fingers down the glass. "I miss him."

McGonagall nodded. "We all do. He was a great man."

"Sometimes I just wish I could talk to him.' Said Harry softly. 'He always knew what to do, and I…" he trailed off, deciding that was enough opening up for one afternoon.

The old witch sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. "I understand this is hard for you, Potter, but you need to remember that he believed in you."

Harry nodded, not really feeling comforted.

McGonagall patted him on the shoulder encourigenly. "I'm sorry, Potter, but I need to return to Hogwarts. Don't hesitate to owl me if you need my assistance in anything."

Harry watched her turn to go as if in slow motion. His mind was screaming at him to make her stop, to get her to turn back around, to ask her the question he'd been dying to ask her for months now but had not yet had the opportunity, nor the stones, to ask.

_Come on! _His mind cried_. Call her back! Ask her! ASK her you spineless ninny!_

"Professor, wait!"

McGonagall turned around as Harry jogged up to her. "Something else, Potter?"

"Yeah, uh…' he already felt embaressed, but there was no turning back now, 'just wondering if, er… that is…"

"Some time _today_, Potter."

"Is there a portrait of Dumbledore in his… I mean, _your_ office?" he blurted.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Yes, there is. Why do you ask?"

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. "Would it be alright if… maybe… I could talk to him?"

McGonagall raised the other eyebrow. Harry hated that look; he always seemed to be on the recieveing end of it. That patronizing, unwavering look that stated that she either felt sorry for his obvious stupidity, or for his nievette. Harry just wanted to run before she took house points for asking stupid questions.

"Potter,' she began slowly, 'you know, a portrait is only an imitation of the real person. It's only a picture, and although they can talk and move and remember everything that has happened in their life… it isnt really them."

"I know that,' said Harry quickly, 'I just… please, Professor? I promise, I won't be long."

McGonagall pursed her lips and drew herself up importantly, thinking it over. Harry opened his mouth, ready to present another argument for his case when the door swung inward again and Remus entered, looking irritable as Draco trailed along close behind him.

"…doesn't mean that they're _bad_. Honestly, how misunderstood do they have to be? You of all people should know that sort of prejudice!"

"Draco, Devil's Snare _kills_. They are not mistunderstood, they're dangerous. It's pure fact!"

Draco sighed. "You close-minded bigot."

"Someone gag him, _please_,' pleaded Remus, giving McGonagall a hopeless, 'get this leach away from me' look as he passed them on the way into the kitchen.

"Gagging! Another vular, inhuman torture you wish to bestow upon me!' cried Draco, throwing his arms up in the air. 'I'm on to you, Lupin! You wish to apprehend me in my sleep! Take me away to some secret location, tie me to a chair, lop all my hair off and force me to watch that wreched 'Mork and Mindy' show you watch all the time repeatedly until my eyes fall out of their sockets! 'Nanu Nanu', indeed! Probably some secret code for 'Die, Draco, Die'! You hate me, don't you! Admit it or perish, Lycan!"

"First of all,' said Remus irritably, whirling around so fast Draco almost walked right into him, 'call me Lycan again and I will make every paranoia of yours a painful reality.'

Draco recoiled.

'And _secondly_,' said Remus, 'if I'm annoying you so much, why do you keep _following_ me?"

"You're going to the kitchen, I require ham tomato and bread."

Remus rolled his eyes and went through the kitchen, Draco still hot on his heels.

"Mr. Malfoy's precence here still astounds me,' Said McGonagall tartly. 'Your reluctance to turn him into the Ministry is very unorthadox. Dumbledore would have made exactly the same choice."

Harry turned back to her and shoved his hands in his pockets. 'So… can I?"

"It's a wonder you're even asking my permission, Potter."

"I felt it curtious. Makes up for all those years I didn't ask your permission."

McGonagall pursed her lips and exhaled slowly through her nose. "I don't think its such a good idea."

Harry sighed. "Sure, that's fine."

"But if helps your mind, then yes, you may speak to him."

Harry blinked, sure he had heard wrong. "But, you just said…"

"Meet me in the living room when you're ready and we will go together,' said McGonagall, 'I feel the need to escort you. Seeing Harry Potter wandering the halls I fear would cause a bit of a stir amongst the students, and I've only just managed to calm them down after last week's events."

"Its not like I'm going to give them all 'The Eye' and strut around like I own the place."

"You're Harry Potter,' she said with a small smile, 'you don't have to."

Harry watched her leave, his mind in a stupor. He'd never really realized how much he liked Minerva McGonagall until now. He had always liked her, that was no surprise, but he had never really taken notice of it; like a painting on the wall you're always conscious of when you walk past it, but one day you actually stop to look at it and realised that, yeah, it actually was pretty cool.

The kitchen door opened again.

"… for someone who spent an entire year teaching at a school you have a surprisingly low tolerance for young, attractive people."

"The _Dalai Lama_ would have a low tolerance if you followed him around!"

Draco took a bite of his sandwich. "The whro wrat rare?"

Remus sighed. "Draco, go find your cousin and bother her for a while."

"But she doesn't bite like you do… metaphorically speaking."

Remus glared at him.

Draco looked around. "Has the devil woman gone?"

"She's not a _devil woman_,' said Harry.

"Let her drag you all the way down to the dungeons by your ear and see if _you_ think she's an angel sent from the heavens,' said Draco, rubbing his ear gingerly. 'Curse that woman. She nearly pulled my precious ear right off! And all I did was give her valuable information."

"You snitched to her about Norbert!' snapped Harry.

"And she called me a liar.' Huffed Draco. 'Turned out I was right! You're more slippery than a newts innards, Potter! You know you would have gotten caught."

"Are you two quite done?' said Remus impatiently. He looked at the cabinet and Pensieve on the table behind Harry. 'Did Minerva give those to you?"

Harry nodded. "From Dumbledore."

"Huh,' sniffed Draco, 'even when he's dead he's still giving you everything."

"There's a thing called '_tact'_, Draco,' snapped Remus, whirling on the blonde, 'at the soonest opportunity, go look it up."

"You're awfully sarcastic today,' said Draco, 'that time of the month again?"

Remus flared up. Harry quickly evactuated the room, not wanting to bare witness to the bloody dimemberment of Draco Malfoy.

-------------

The walk from the front gates all the way up to the stone Gargoyle was probably one of the most annoyingly fast walks he had ever taken – and not just because McGonagall walked like a Muesum Guide.

Everything at Hogwarts was, at first glance, exactly the same as it had been when Harry had called it home. The late afternoon sun was shining down upon the caslte, lighting up its towers in a bright orange glow. A breeze was coming from his left, from the Forbidden Forrest, ruffling his hair and cooling his skin. The grass was a lucious green and was soft as he walked. The grounds were a hive of acvitity, students everywhere relaxing in the sun; but despite their number, there was notibly less students than usual.

Harry looked at McGonagall's back as he followed her across the grounds. "Where is everyone?"

"Sadly, this is half of our student body this year.' She said over her shoulder, not stopping.

A flash of anger hit Harry. Even after the events at the Department of Mysteries two years ago, people had still sent their children back to Hogwarts, contuning to deem it the safest place. But now that Dumbledore was no longer Head it seemed their opinions had changed; this annoyed Harry. Didn't they think McGonagall was competent? Didn't they think she could protect the students as effectively as Dumbledore had? Dumbledore had hand picked her for a reason. It was riduculous that they would blindly trust Dumbledore, but not his judjement.

They were up the front stairs and without slowing entered the castle. Harry shivered as he crossed the threshold; like he'd passed through a barrier of time. He took a moment to look around the Entrance Hall. It was practically empty, only five students loitering around the doorway. They looked at him with wide eyes of surprise, but he pretended not to notice. It seemed only yesterday he was eleven years old, walking into this hall for the very first time, an entirely new world full of possibilites at his feet…

"Potter?'

Harry blinked. McGonagall was already at the top of the stairs.

"Are you quite alright?"

"I'm fine,' he muttered quickly.

The students flinched, as if being jolted by electricity and began whispering to themseleves, eyes locked on Harry as he jogged up the stairs, stubbornly ignoring them and McGonagall's look.

"Potter…"

"I'm _fine_.' He repeated, stopping two steps below to give her a look.

McGonagall pursed her lips and looked over his shoulder. "All of you, outside before I take house points!"

Harry looked over his shoulder to see the five Hufflepuffs rush out the door as if a Chimaera were chasing them. He looked back again to give McGonagall an appreciative smile but she was already off again.

Harry could have walked the rest of the way without one single thought. Dumbledore's office was one of the locations he had been to so many times in the past he knew he could have gotten there completely blindfolded. Luckily they had only passed a few students on the way, a handful of Ravenclaws who politey peered over their books, several Slytherins who had not been shy about giving him glares, Hufflepuffs who's eyes had almost fallen out of their heads and Gryffindor's, some of which he knew including Denis Creevy, all of which stopped to shake his hand and say hello. Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd been around so many people; it was good to see his housemates again.

"Here we are."

McGonagalls voice was sudden and almost too loud. Harry, who had been completely lost in thought, his eyes locked on his feet as they treded the stone floor, stopped sharply and looked up to find himself looking at the stone Gargoyle.

The old witch considered him for a long moment. "Potter, are you sure you want to do this?"

"I'm sure."

"Because there is no shame in turning around and…"

"No,' he said firmly. Checking his rudeness, he slouched. 'Sorry, Professor. But I'm fine, really."

McGonagall pursed her lips. She was examining him with that sharp eye, as if she could see right through him; he felt eleven again, admitting to her he knew about the Philosophers Stone. She drew herself up importantly, turned and to the Gargoyle said, '_Puddlemere'_. The Gargoyle came to life and stepped aside, revealing the staircase.

She gestured. "Up you go."

Harry blinked. "You're not coming?"

"Potter, whatever you have to say, or whatever you need to hear, surely is none of my buisness.' Said McGonagall. 'You and Albus had… well, lets just say I know when not to intrude."

"But its your office. I don't want to just kick you out."

"_Do_ hurry up, Potter,' said McGonagall impatiently, gesturing to the staircase again, 'I am very busy and important."

Harry smiled, nodded and stepped onto the staircase. It began to ascend, and he turned to say thank you but McGonagall had already walked off, emerald robes billowing out behind her. He sighed and turned back around, spiraling upward until the stairs came to a stop and he found himself standing at the large oak door. Slowly he reached out and grabbed the door handle; it was cool to the touch. He could hear voices beyond the door, no doubt the portraits were entertaining themselves He drew in a breath and hesitiated. Did he really want to be doing this? It could send him off his rocker completely.

He turned the handle and pushed the door inward.

Although the room was empty, conversations were still being carried out. Feeling awkward in interupting them, Harry slowly stepped into the room and looked around. The layout of the room was the same, and yet he could tell that Dumbledore no longer resided there. Everything had a different air to it; no longer joyful and welcoming, more crisp and buisnesslike. The large oak desk was cluttered with parchment and open books, many of Dumbledore's trinkets (the ones that Harry hadn't managed to smash two years ago) were gone; no doubt placed in his vault at Gringotts for safe keeping. One of the blaringly obviuos changes he first noticed, however, was the missing golden perch behind the desk and the beautiful red Phoenix sitting upon it. It was with a sad feeling that Harry wondered where Fawkes was now. He looked to his left and saw the Quidditch Pitch out the window. There were seven people on brooms up in the air, obviously doing drills, but he couldn't tell from the distance who.

"Ah, a sight to brighten my day – Harry Potter."

A shiver ran up his spine, and Harry didn't turn around right away. He pulled himself together, took a deep breath and, as he turned around, found that he couldn't help but smile.

He sighed. "Hello, Professor."

Seeing Albus Dumbledore beam down at him was the oddest, scariest, gutwrenching and wonderful feeling he had felt in a long time. His blue eyes twinkled with a life that seemed to real it was very hard for Harry to remember that it was only artificial.

"What brings you to Minerva's office on such a glorious afternoon?' asked Dumbledore.

"Probably come to smash up a few of _her_ things now,' muttered Phineas Nigellus.

"Now Phineas,' started Dilys Derwent, her brow knotted disapprovingly toward Phineas, 'Harry is a guest in the Headmistresses chambers, and as such we treat him with the proper respect."

"Teenagers seldom know what 'proper respect' is,' said Phineas, looking disaprovingly down at Harry.

"Maybe we would if adults would teach us properly.' Retorted Harry.

Amando Dippet laughed and beamed down at Harry. "Ah, the clean cut wit of young people. Oh, how I miss it!"

Phineas scowled as the other portraits chuckled around him and, with one final glare at Harry he said, 'I never understood what you saw in this one, Dumbledore,' and disappeared from his frame.

Harry glared at the empty frame, taking a moment to make a note to remove the other portrait from Grimmauld Place when he returned, before he remembered once again what he was doing. The room had gone completely silent now, each portrait listening intently. Harry felt as though he were about to make some sort of speech in front of dozens of people, all of them judging him with scrutiny. This wasn't going to be the private council he had been hoping for, but he didn't care. He pushed his uneasyness away and looked right at Dumbledore.

The old wizard looked down at him over the top of his moon glasses. "Harry, you shouldn't be here."

"Yeah, well, neither should you.' Said Harry softly.

Dumbledore considered him with that peircing gaze of his Harry had been on the end of so many times before. "You look troubled, Harry."

Harry sighed and sat down on McGonagall's desk heavily. "And here I was, thinking I looked dashing."

"How are you handling things?"

"Oh, fine. We're doing well. Really got Voldemort shivering in his little boots.' Said Harry.

Dumbledore just looked at him.

Harry sighed. "What do you want me to tell you?"

"The truth is always a good place to begin."

"I thought you said the truth was a beautiful and terrible thing and should be treated with caution."

Dumbledore smiled. "You remember that?"

"I remember everything you tell me."

"You were so young and so worn,' said Dumbledore, obviously reminicing, 'a mere boy of eleven, already having faced death for the second time and escaping unscathed."

"I remember,' said Harry, 'but sometimes I wish I didn't."

Dumbledore frowned as Harry bowed his head. "What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry hunched his shoulders and suddenly felt emotions swelling up in him. It wasn't normal any of this. Dumbledore was talking to Harry as if he hadn't a care in the world. As if he hadn't been blasted off the Astronomy Tower almost a year ago. As if he hadn't put Harry through emotional hell. He knew he shouldn't talk about it, but his voice seemed to be coming out by its own accord, as if sensing his needs more than his wants.

"I feel lost." Said Harry finally.

"A natural reaction for anyone in your position."

"But I shouldn't feel lost!' said Harry, his head snapping up. 'I know what I have to do, and I know how I have to do it. I don't know… things are just so much harder than I thought they would be. Not that I expected it to be easy, but…' he trailed off with an irritated growl and ran his hands roughly through his hair.

Dumbledore shifted in his seat. "Harry, I know this is hard for you…"

"No you don't!' snapped Harry. 'You have no idea how I'm feeling right now! And you should know! You should _be here_ to know!"

A long silence followed his outburst, and Harry instantly regretted it. Dumbledore didn't seem offended at all; he was just sitting there in his chair, watching Harry patiently. He took a few deep breaths and calmed himself down. He didn't want to start tearing up the place again like a hormonal fifteen year old.

"I'm sorry,' he said softly, 'I shouldn't snap at you. I didn't come here to yell at you."

"Perhaps you need to yell at someone,' said Dumbledore, 'I am more than willing to let you express yourself if it will help you."

Harry shook his head. "I spend too much time being angry."

"A wise epiphany."

"Besides,' he smirked, 'if I want to vent I have Malfoy to beat the stuffing out of. No sense yelling at a painting – no offence."

"None taken,' said Dumbledore, raising his eyebrows, 'but what is this about Mr Malfoy?"

Harry blinked. "McGonagall didn't tell you?"

Dumbledore just looked at him.

He braced himself. "Malfoy is… kinda… living with us now. At Grimmauld Place."

For what could have been the first time ever, Dumbledore was openly surprised. His blue eyes had widened and his silver eyebrows were arched upward. He looked to be only just holding back his laughter.

"Is he now?' asked Dumbledore happily.

"Yes, he is,' glowered Harry.

"Well, I do beg your pardon, Harry, but I was rather under the impression you and Mr. Malfoy were… how does the phrase go… oh yes, '_at logger heads_' with one another."

"We are,' said Harry, 'but… I don't know, its all very weird. I didn't want to keep him. He'd been living with Tonks for months, apparently Snape told him to go somewhere so he wouldn't have to be on the run for the rest of his life like Snape would, and he rocked up at Tonks's place and she took him in and… it's a long story."

Dumbledore smiled down at Harry. "Taking him in was a very admirable thing to do, Harry."

"So would turning him over to the Ministry."

"Then why didn't you, if that's what your better judgement was telling you to do?"

Harry sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Because… _you_ would have told him he could stay. You offered him somewhere to go, it was the last thing you ever did, and I…I just wanted to do what you thought was right."

Dumbledore exhaled softly through his crooked nose. "No doubt that is not the only hard decision you have had to make lately."

"Sometimes, I think the hardest choice I have to make is whether or not to get out of bed in the morning.' Said Harry quietly.

"And yet you do,' said Dumbledore, 'every day you get up and you keep fighting."

"I'm tired of fighting,' said Harry. He felt tension leaving his body just as he said it. 'I'm tired of worrying about my family, I'm tired of waking up wondering if today is the day my luck runs out; if today is the day I die, I'm tired of seeing Voldemort's face everywhere and I'm tired of…' he paused and closed his eyes, 'I'm just _tired_. We fight and we fight and it feels like we're getting nowhere. Like we take one step forward and three steps back. He's like this impenitrable wall that we keep banging out heads against."

"It often does feel that way,' said Dumbledore sympathetically, 'not all that unlike teaching, sometimes."

Despite the dreary topic, Harry smiled.

"I know that sometimes it can seem helpless, but just know that you have the power to beat him. That you all do. And that in times when it seems all hope is lost, that is when you discover that it is easiest to find."

"How can you find hope in people who seem to have forsaken it?' asked Harry. 'People are running out of faith, Professor. I see it everywhere. And they look to me to restore it; they look at me as if I'm going to renergize them. As if I give them a reason to keep fighting, or remind them why they're fighting in the first place. As if I'm some sort of symbol. I give them all my hope but I keep none for myself, and I worry that there will be nothing left of me to fight.' He sighed and glared out the window at the Quidditch Pitch, wishing he were out there without a care in the world. 'I hate war."

"A general consensus amongst most people,' agreed Dumbledore, ' but at the same time, war can be nessecary."

Harry gaped at him. "How is the killing of innocent people _nessecary_?"

"You will need to ask Lord Voldemort that question. He is, after all, the one who found all this nessecary."

"I'll be sure to put that to him next time we sit down for tea and scones,' said Harry irritably.

"Open war brings out issues our people have been harbouring for centuries.' Said Dumbledore, shifting in his seat again. 'It allows us to deal with them so we may move on and come to a reconcilliation. Sometimes, we make war that we may life in peace."

"Yeah, but making war for peace is like having sex for virginity."

Dumbledore laughed, along with a few other portraits who, until now, had been sitting in rivited silence. "Another grey area that will, no doubt, never make any sense to us at all."

Harry bowed his head again and rubbed the palm of his left hand with the pad of his thumb of is right. "I'm scared.' He dmitted softly. 'I wish I had your courage, Professor."

"Harry, my dear boy, you have more courage than anyone I know.' Said Dumbledore kindly. 'Remember that courage is not the absence of fear, but more the judgment that something else is more important than fear."

"Remus said something like that,' nodded Harry, 'Courage is not being fearless; it's having fear but having to do it anyway."

"Remus is a smart man,' said Dumbledore.

Harry bowed his head and ruffled his hair. "He tells me a lot of stuff like that. Tells me that he has faith in me, that he knows I can do it… but how can I? I know what everyone expects of me. I'm the Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. They look at me, waiting for me to go first, to throw myself into a pile of Death Eaters and take them all out single handedly, as if to prove that everything isn't as bad as it seems. But I'm not what they think I am. I'm just Harry, who grew up sleeping in a cupboard under the stairs, who never had any friends, who never had anyone to tell him everything was going to be alright even if it wasn't! How can I lead these people?"

"You need to believe you can do it, Harry.' Said Dumbeldore. 'I believe you can, I know Mr Weasley and Miss Granger know you can… but most importantly you need to believe you can. It all comes back to you in the end. The power to believe in yourself is the power to change fate."

"What if my fate is to die?' asked Harry.

Dumbledore fixed him with a look. "Do you believe that?"

"I don't know what I believe anymore.' Said Harry. 'I mean, look at it. _Really_ look at it. He's one of the most powerful wizards in centuries, is probably seventy years my senior, has more experience, resiliance and determination than anyone I've ever met and he doesn't care who dies along the way. Me? I'm a scrawny seventeen year old kid with bad eyesight who can't do anything without the help of his best friends. I'm no where near as powerful as him, and I cant say the killing curse. I can't. I tried already, and I just froze. What chance in hell do I have of beating him in any lifetime?"

"Harry, your mind is full and complicated.' Said Dumbledore. 'You need to relax."

"Relax? We're in the middle of a ruddy war! How can I relax when any of my friends could be the next one killed?"

"It's okay to take care of others, Harry, but remember to take care of yourself as well.' Said Dumbledore. 'After all, if you're not around in the end, how are you going to help anyone?"

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. His breathing had increased, and he felt as though the walls were closing in on him. It was a good few moments later that he realized he was starting to panic, so he took slow, deep breaths. He tried to relax, letting go of his tense muscles.

"You are not sleeping well?"

Harry looked up at blinked, remembering suddenly where he was. He was a little surprised to see Dumbledore looking at him with such concern.

"I'm fine,' he said, wondering if perhaps he should write down certain sentences on flash cards and present them appropriately whenever one of the more frequently asked questions was asked.

"Your sleep is interrupted, is it not?"

Harry rubbed his jaw. "I have lots more dreams now. Like, he can tell that I'm frustrated and takes advantage of it. Sometimes I see him in the mirror, as if I were standing there, and he's just laughing at me. And then I get more furious and my head hurts even more and I wake up screaming. Hermione keeps trying to give me Dreamless Sleep potion, but I won't take it. As bad as they are, I want to be there for the dreams incase I can find something out."

Dumbledore nodded. "A wise choice, and yet having one night of rest would make you feel more energized I think."

"Yeah, that's what Hermione reckons."

"Miss Granger always has been particularly bright."

Harry smiled, feeling better as he thought of Hermione. And as he thought of Hermione, he thought of Ron, and as a reaction he thought of Ginny, and they all smiled at him, and he started to feel better.

He looked up at Dumbledore. "I don't want to die."

"People seldom do."

"I think I'm scared of dying,' said Harry, 'I'm only seventeen. I have the rest of my life ahead of me, and I want so badly to live it. But I know that I might not be able to do that, and that's what scares me."

"Death is a scary prospect,' said Dumbledore.

Harry wanted to laugh at the absurdity of a dead man preaching such words to him, but then he remembered that this wasn't really Dumbledore, just a painting.

"It's not dying so much that I'm worried about, more the fact that I don't want to miss out,' said Harry. 'I only just started living once I came here, once I met… and, well… seven years just doesn't seem like enough for me. There's just so much I wanted to do. That I still want to do. I just want…' he paused and rested his elbows on his knees, '… I just want to succeed at something. So far, I feel like I haven't really done anything."

"Oh, if you only knew how much you have done, Harry,' smiled Dumbledore. 'You have accomplished in areas where other men would only dream of achieving."

Harry was puzzled. "I became captain of the Quidditch team?"

Dumbledore laughed. "You have _lived_, Harry. You have friends who care for you; you have turned into a bright, confident young man. You have earned the respect of thousands of people, most of which you will likely never meet."

"You make me sound like some sort of hero."

"A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles. This describes you to a T, don't you think?"

Harry shook his head. "Heroes are special people – I'm nothing special. I'm just Harry Potter."

"Harry, you have grown into a thoughtful, kind, considerate young man with the capacity to care more for others than you do for yourself. And if that is not a hero, I don't know what is."

Harry frowned. He'd never thought of himself as a hero, or a savior, or a role model. He was just a guy, trying to do what was right. Just an average bloke who always seemed to be in the wrong place in the wrong time; even if it was prophesized. But maybe that's all a hero was – the guy who's there.

"Do not dwell on such serious thoughts for so long, Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'You are young, and although these are dark times you need to learn to see the good in life too. Tell me about your friends."

"My friends? Well, er… I don't know… Ron and Hermione are sort of dating now…"

"Ah, _finally_,' sighed Dumbledore. 'If only I were alive, Minerva would owe me ten Sickles."

Harry had to cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing.

"What of you and Miss Weasley?' asked Dumbledore. 'The last I saw of you two, you were becoming very close."

Harry blushed. He really didn't want to be discussing his love life with Albus Dumbledore, and yet at the same time he seemed to be the only one he could discuss it with.

"We, er… broke up."

"Oh dear."

"Yeah. Our timing was…' he paused and shrugged. 'It was the right thing to do. She understands."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Oh, she does, does she?"

Harry frowned. "_Excuse_ me, sir?"

"I beg your pardon if this is none of my business, but am I correct in assuming that you distanced yourself from Miss Weasley to protect her?"

"Basically."

"And you would no doubt do the same to Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger had you any say in the matter at all, yes?"

"Well, of course. But what does that have to do with anything?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Why do you insist upon pushing away the very fundamentals that make you strong?"

"Wha-… I… because I'd be nothing without them!' said Harry. 'They could die doing all this with me! And I can't bear to think of a world without them in it. I'd do anything to keep them safe!"

"But you can't push them away, or you will truly loose them. Without friends no-one would choose to live, though he had all other goods.' Said Dumbledore softly.

"Exactly why I want to keep them safe,' said Harry determinedly. 'They're the reason I get up in the morning. I don't want to loose them. I lo-…' he stopped and shut his mouth. That was enough ranting.

Dumbledore shifted in his seat again. "Harry, I feel that your desire to protect them is so strong that no force will be able to break it. The way you feel about Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, your mother… all of them, give you a power you are not even aware you possess."

Harry frowned. "Did you just say… _my mother_?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Forgive me, Harry, have I spoken out of turn again?"

"How the bloody hell did you know she was…' he stopped mid-cry, already on his feet, remembering that they were not alone.

"Minerva confided in me. I do hope you don't mind."

Harry sat back down heavily and sighed. "No, I suppose not."

"Quite remarkable, I must say,' said Dumbledore. Harry could hear the beaming pride at such a feat in his tone. 'May I enquire as to how it happened?"

"McGonagall didn't tell you?' said Harry shortly. But he already knew the answer.

"Minerva did not know,' said Dumbledore, 'no doubt she was not privy to such private information. I myself would understand if you did not share it with me."

Harry ruffled his hair. "The Arch in the Ministry. It's like a doorway to the afterlife. We don't really know all the details, but we're assuming that when Sirius fell through, he pushed Mum out or something. We haven't figured it all out, really. Its called the Department of Mysteries for a reason, right?"

"Extraordinary,' said Dumbledore softly. 'How are the two of you getting on?"

"That's it?' said Harry, dumfounded. '_That's_ the first question you ask? _How are we getting on_? Aren't you curios at all as to how this is possible, considering you're the one who preached to me for years that the dead can never be brought back to life?"

Dumbledore laughed. "Harry, I do not pretend to know everything. To the breadth of my knowledge, there was no way to bring the deceased back to life. But there is much about Magic that I, along with most highly accomplished wizards and witches, have not discovered. Muggles themselves say they have only explored but three percent of the Universe, and who knows what else could be out there. We will never stop learning. Yes, I could sit here for hours questioning you all about what has transpired between you and your mother, but it is a private matter between the two of you and I do not wish to intrude. Besides,' he said, getting up and moving to make himself a cup of tea, 'I am but a painting; a shadow of a man long deceased. What would I do with such information?"

Harry smiled.

"So, my boy,' said Dumbledore, sitting down again with his tea, 'back to my original question – how are the two of you getting on?"

"Good,' said Harry. He looked down at his feet swinging underneath the desk. 'Really good, actually. Not that its all sunshine and daisies, she does irritate me sometimes. She can be overbearing, and stubborn, and she insists on knowing where I am all the time, and she makes me fold my clothes before I put them away in the drawer and so much other stuff that it drives me around the bend."

"Spoken like a true son,' Dumbledore chuckled into his teacup.

"But having her here, alive, is…amazing,' smiled Harry. 'It's nothing like I ever imagined it would be. Seeing Ron with his parents, and Hermione with hers, was always the only way I really got to see how parents could be; the Dursleys don't count. But then Mum shows up, and it was hard at first… it still is… but we work on it, and I think maybe that's how its meant to be. Its hard, and its strange, and most of the time I don't know how to be or what to say or do… but I wouldn't have it any other way."

Dumbledore smiled down at him, his eyes twinkling. "With so much terror and pain, it is nice that you got to have this one joy."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, and blue eyes locked with green. It was frustrating; Harry was forgetting that he was only a painting, and while he knew he shouldn't he wanted to. He wanted it to be like it always had been. He wanted the real Dumbledore behind his desk; Fawkes perched behind him, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles as he told Harry that everything would be alright. He wanted Dumbledore to save him, to help him, to support him in that effortless way Dumbledore always had. He wanted to feel safe again just because Dumbledore was there, just because he was with him. He wanted to feel like he used to feel when he was younger, and he knew he would be alright because Dumbledore would always be there no matter what. Dumbledore was forever; eternal, and Harry was insulted that he wasn't there now.

"Why did you have to die?' said Harry softly. His voice was hoarse with emotion.

"Everybody dies, Harry,' said Dumbledore kindly. 'It's the natural order of things. It's the wonderful reward for being human."

"You didn't just die, though,' said Harry vehemently, 'you were _murdered_."

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, things are not as black and white as you perceive them."

"The hell they aren't!' snapped Harry, leaping to his feet again. 'I was there! I saw everything! You just stood there and let Snape kill you!"

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry."

"No! To hell with propriety or respect!' retorted Harry.

"Quick,' muttered Armando Dippet suddenly to the portrait beside him, 'hide the trinkets."

"He killed you, even when you pleaded with him!' continued Harry. 'I swear, he'd better pray I never find him, because I won't be held responsible for what I'll do to him if I ever catch up with him."

Dumbledore rubbed his forehead. "Harry, please sit down."

"How can you be so calm about this?' demanded Harry, nevertheless sitting back down on the desk as he was asked. 'How can you not be furious? He betrayed you! I told you for years not to trust him, but you didn't listen! I was right! He couldn't be trusted! How can you not be angry? How can you not feel betrayed? Why don't you want revenge?"

"Because Severus did not betray me,' said Dumbledore, 'he performed that curse upon me by my strict orders."

It took a good long fifteen seconds before Harry reacted at all. His mouth was partly open, and he had a look of someone who had just seen their parents' skinny dipping in a public area. He blinked and few times, opened and closed his mouth a few times in attempt to speak before he finally found his voice.

"You… hold on… are you telling me that you _wanted_ Snape to kill you?"

Dumbledore pressed his fingertips together under his nose and exhaled slowly through his nose. "Harry, I fear that your feelings toward Severus will prevent you from understanding all that has transpired between us in the past. As I have always said, I fully trust Severus, even now. This was not a choice I wanted to make, but it was necessary."

Harry shook his head. "It wasn't necessary. I'll never understand the blind faith you have in the man."

"Harry, my dear boy, with all due respect, you don't need to understand,' said Dumbledore kindly.

The old wizards' words hit Harry like a tonne of bricks. How was it none of his business? He was there when it had happened! Snape was responsible for such much grief in Harry's life, and Dumbledore just brushed it aside. It made him furious, but he did not want this time with Dumbledore to be spent in anger or resentment; so for now, he let the matter drop.

Harry sighed and ruffled his hair. "I'm sorry, sir. Can we just… talk?"

"That is why you came all this way, I presume."

"But I don't want to waste your time."

Dumbledore exchanged a smile with the portraits around him, ghostly images of wizards past. "We a portraits, we have seldom else to do with our time but offer young wizards in need our council."

Harry smiled.

-----------------

Hermione looked up through the steam of the bubbling cauldron in front of her as she heard the sound of B flat, C major and D being played. Ron was sitting down on the piano stool; he was playing random notes softly, one knee drawn up to his chest.

"You're a regular Beethoven,' smiled Hermione, going back to her potion.

"If I knew who that was, I'm sure I'd be flattered,' said Ron. He looked at her over the piano and frowned. 'What are you doing? Inventing a cure for Lycanthropy?"

"I'm… fiddling.' Said Hermione, holding up a vile of some blue liquid and measuring it at eyelevel.

Ron spluttered. "_Fiddling_? Hermione, you can't just fiddle with potion ingredients!"

"I can and I am,' said Hermione matter-of-factly. 'Don't worry, Ron, I know what I'm doing. I know what ingredients to mix and what not to mix. I've been top of the class for six years…"

"Five years,' corrected Ron with a grin and an A Minor.

Hermione glared at him. "Harry was cheating last year, it doesn't count. I'm better than him and he knows it."

Ron laughed. "What are you making then? You still won't tell me."

"If I tell you you'll tell me to stop."

"No I won't."

Hermione considered him for a long moment. "You promise you won't get cross?"

"Promise."

"Oh… alright. I'm making potions…for my parents."

Ron frowned. Out of all the purposes he'd expected her making all these potions for (something to fix her hair permanently, an elixir to help Harry filter his visions, even something that would make Voldemort very very small so all Harry had to do was step on him), he had not been expecting that. She wasn't looking at him, she was sprinkling some herbs into the bubbling bright green potion, but he knew she was anxiously awaiting his response by the tight expression on her face.

He let out a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. "Hermione, love, darling, sweetheart… your parents are muggles."

"So?"

"So what are they going to do with potions? What sort of potions are they?"

Hermione dipped a turkey paster into the cauldron, sucked a quantity of potion out and put it into a small glass vial. "They're for protection."

Ron sighed, shut the lid over the keyboard and leant his elbows on it. "Hermione, we've got them protected. The Order has more wards around their house than Gringotts bank!"

"They can't stay locked up in the house forever,' said Hermione shortly. 'They have to go outside, and go to work, and have a life and not hide away inside the four walls of our home. I don't want them to feel like prisoners in their own home, I don't want them to be worried, and I don't want them to get hurt when they go out. So I'm making them potions so they can protect themselves; so they can feel safe when they walk down the street, and so I'll feel better knowing that they're that little bit less vulnerable."

"Hermione, there's a law against giving muggles access to magic. Dad's locked people up for a lot less."

"I spoke to your father; he said I'm well within the law,' said Hermione, putting a cork in the vial forcefully.

"You talked to my _dad_ about all this, and I'm only _just_ finding out about it?' said Ron irritably.

Hermione said nothing, just continued to brew.

Ron ran a hand through his hair, annoyed. "Look, if you want to sit here and brew potions for your parents then that's fine, no problem, knock yourself out. But don't let it consume you, and even more, don't shut me out of it!"

"What I do with my spare time is none of your business."

"I'm your _boyfriend_,' snapped Ron, '_everything_ about you is my business! Why didn't you tell me about any of this weeks ago?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't understand,' said Hermione, looking at him finally, 'and I was right. You don't understand."

"You think I don't understand that you want to keep your family safe?' snapped Ron. 'I understand that feeling more than anyone!"

"I'm not saying that,' she retorted, 'I'm saying you don't understand what its like for me! To be in my position! Your parents can hold their own against Death Eaters. Just a flick of the wrist and they can conjure a shield, or with just a thought they can send someone crashing to the ground unconscious. My parents can't! They can't apparate if they get into trouble, or stun or disarm or anything. They're defenseless, and I won't sit back and leave them without aid. These potions are my way of giving the upper hand magically, the upper hand that I was born with but, for some ridiculous reason, they weren't! You just don't know how _hard_ it is, Ron!"

Ron frowned, his anger ebbing as tears began to well in her eyes. "I don't know because you don't tell me."

Hermione sighed and put her face in her hands. "I'm sorry."

"Shut up and get over here already."

She didn't need telling twice. Hermione heaved herself to her feet, walked around and sat down on the piano stool beside Ron. Ron straddled the stool and Hermione sat in the V of his legs, leaning her back up against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. She linked her fingers with his and he pressed his cheek against her temple, giving her hair a soft kiss. She instantly relaxed, all her tense muscles loosening.

Ron closed his eyes. "I do understand, even if you think I don't. I mean, sure, not completely… I can't imagine my Mum and Dad without magic…but I _do_ get it, how you're feeling, even if I can't relate."

Hermione said nothing; perhaps she had under-estimated him. He was her best friend, she knew him so well, yet sometimes he did something or said something that made her feel as though she didn't know him at all.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I knew you'd be sarcastic or that you would call me silly and that I'd get upset and then we would fight. Turns out I was right, wasn't I?"

"Hermione, I don't think it's silly. I just don't know what you think potions are going to do to help protect your parents… unless they turn them in lions or something."

Hermione smiled and looked over at the desk slash workbench, the blue flame underneath the cauldron casting an eerie glow around the room. "They all do different things; I've spent ages trying to perfect them. I almost blew my room up a few days ago with one of them…I still haven't got them just right…"

"Blimey,' said Ron, looking at the little vials with wary eyes, 'what the bloody hell are they?"

"Well, the yellow ones mimic the effects of the Instant Darkness Powder, but it last longer; Fred helped me with getting the ingredients right, and the green ones create a door in a wall for a quick escape, the blue ones create blue fire and the red ones are explosives."

"_Explosives_?'

"One can't be too cautious."

"One can't be too sane, either!"

"Don't be ridiculous, I put an Unbreakable Charm on each and every one of those vials – there will be no accidents."

"What's that one for?"

Hermione looked where Ron was pointing, at the beaker on the shelf, away from all the other vials. "That… is Dreamless sleep potion."

Ron looked at her. "Hermione, he told you he didn't want it."

"I know,' she said softly, 'but just in case he changes his mind…"

"He won't,' Ron smiled and hugged her tighter, 'but, yeah, 'just in case' doesn't hurt, I suppose."

"Where is he anyway?"

"I don't know."

Hermione flinched. "He's _missing_? _Again_?"

"No, he's not missing, he's gone out!'

"Oh."

"Charlie said he saw him leave with McGonagall an hour or so ago."

Hermione sat up and looked around at him. "He's gone to Hogwarts?"

Ron shrugged. "Unless McGonagall wanted to take him shopping for a kilt, I guess so."

"What's he doing there? You don't think he's gone to see Ginny, have you?"

"I don't know, but I think maybe he should see her,' said Ron, a trace of annoyance in his tone, 'the poor kid, she misses him so bloody much and he just ignores her. Makes me mad sometimes, you know."

"Maybe it's too hard for him to see her,' said Hermione.

"I don't bloody care if its too hard,' said Ron darkly, 'he needs to see her, or at least talk to her; write her a letter… _something_. Not just for her sake but for his too."

Hermione turned around so she was facing him and linked her hands with his again. "Why didn't you go with him?"

"He didn't ask me to."

"Since when does he ask us to go anywhere?' said Hermione. 'We still go, no matter what he says."

Ron scowled. "Not lately. He just nicks off, and by the time you realize it its too damn late to follow him. Stupid blighter…"

"Why don't you tell him how you're feeling?' said Hermione, 'maybe he'll listen."

"I don't want to talk to him about my feelings,' laughed Ron. 'That's something girls do with each other, not blokes."

"No, your manly solution is to break his jaw."

"Well, it gets the point across all the same."

Hermione frowned. "So you're going to start boxing me around the ears when you want to get a point across to me, are you?"

Ron laughed. "I would never do that! I love your pretty face too much."

"Just my face?"

"No, you silly bird,' said Ron, giving her a quick chaste kiss, 'I love you. Everything about you."

"Is that what we are?' asked Hermione. 'In love?"

Ron bit his lip and looked at her thoughtfully. "I don't know. How does anyone know?"

"Well… do you even think about the future?' she asked. 'Not this war or what we still have to do, or whether or not we'll make it… beyond that. Do you ever think of how your life could be after all this is over?"

"Yeah,' said Ron, 'sometimes."

"What do you see?"

Ron considered her for a long moment, and then smiled. "You. I see you. I've always seen you. Well, you and Harry, but Harry's sorta been over in the distance while I'm kissing you."

Hermione laughed.

"I know how I feel about you right now, and how I've felt about you for the past six years.' He said seriously. 'Knowing that is one of the few things that gets me through the day. I know that I want to stay like this with you. I think we're going to get through this war, and I think I'm going to live a long… and silly life, but I'm not interested in doing that without you around."

Hermione smiled at him and ran a finger down his cheek. Sometimes, for being such an insensitive wart with the emotional range of a teaspoon, he could be quite lovely.

--------------

The stroll out of the castle, as apposed to the walk through it, was taking a lot longer than usual, probably due to the slow pace and two wrong turns Harry had taken, so lost was he in thought.

He felt like his brain was going to leak out of his ears, it was so full with words. He kept hearing their voices in his head, whispering words of wisdom and encouragement to him, repeating them over and over again like an echo. _Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail… what lies before us and what lies beyond us is tiny compared to what lies within us_… both quotes from great people in history, yet neverless irrelevant. Dumbledore's voice, however, overlapped them all.

"_Sometimes I wonder why I bother, you know,' he had said gloomily, 'our world, the muggle world, nothing I do will change anything." _

"_Its true, Harry, the world is no longer a good place,' Dumbledore had said softly, 'but some of its people still are however, and therein lies the promise. Don't let the world win, Harry." _

"_What if it does win?' he had asked. 'What if I fail everyone? What if I disappoint them? What if I disappoint myself?" _

"_That will not happen,' Dumbledore said, 'To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children...to leave the world a better place...to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. That is to have succeeded." _

_Harry looked up at him. "That sounds nice,' he smiled. 'I'd like to do that." _

Harry smiled now at the thought again. It did sound nice, and if he was going to die, he would like it to be under those circumstances.

His talk with Dumbledore had not changed his mind about death. He still didn't want to die, but he did not fear it the way Voldemort did; and, Dumbledore said, that knowledge was a valuable asset Harry had over him. Fear crippled people, Harry knew this more than anyone, and when the time came he would use Voldemort's fear to his advantage.

Working out strategies was something that Harry had been thinking about more and more over the past few months. He didn't want to be caught unexpected like every other time he had met the Death Eaters or Voldemort; he wanted to be ready. He wanted to have a plan, and a plan B, and a Plan C and D and E and even F if he had to. Lately it had been becoming more and more difficult to think of anything, as the risk that Voldemort would find out grew. But there was something about talking to Dumbledore that increased his confidence and resilience, yet calmed him at the same time. Dumbledore had a way of making the stream of ideas flow more easily. No idea was ever silly or bad. Each idea had potential, and Dumbledore helped him elaborate and build on their foundations for something stronger. He wished he could talk to the real Dumbledore, even just for a minute.

Harry turned another corner, side-stepped a group of tiny Gryffindors who googled as he walked past, and went down the last flight of stairs to the ground level. He pursed his lips. He should go to visit his grave. He hadn't been there since the funeral. He should pay his respects; it was the right thing to do – especially after he'd spent the past few hours talking to his portrait. If he was going to do it, it should be now. It was getting dark, and he'd been gone from Grimmauld Place long enough as it was…

"_Ooof_!'

"Ow, sorry, I didn't see…"

Harry stopped mid-sentence as he looked right into the face of Ginny Weasley. Harry's earlier question of who had been out on the Quidditch Pitch was finally answered. Ginny was dressed in her scarlet Quidditch robes and protective gear, her hair was windblown and her cheeks were flushed pink underneath her freckles. She was clutching Ron's Cleansweep he had leant her for the year tightly in her fist, and Harry rubbed his stomach where it the handle had jabbed into him as they had literally bumped into each other in the Entrance Hall.

Ginny quickly tilted the broomstick handle upward, so as not to whack him again. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to flatten it. "Harry,"

"Hey, Ginny,' said Harry softly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"You're the last person I expected to be ramming the handle of my broomstick into, I must say,' she chuckled nervously.

Harry smiled awkwardly and rubbed his stomach again.

Of all the people he had to bump into, literally, it had to be her. Of all the rooms of all seven floors in the entire castle she could have chosen that moment to walk into, it had to be this one. Naturally, Harry had considered the possibility of seeing her on this visit; she did still live there after all. But it was a big castle, what were the odds, really? Apparently pretty good. He shifted awkwardly; he hadn't seen her in months, and standing so close to her now was almost intoxicating.

He took a small step away. "I saw you out on the field.'

"I wanted to get in some practice before next week's game,' said Ginny, frowning slightly. 'We're not as bad as Hufflepuff, but we're not as good as last year either, even though I think we could be."

"The formation is too wide, you need to tighten it up,' said Harry, his tone business-like, 'but you still look pretty good to me."

Ginny smiled. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

Harry looked at his feet and muttered something intelligible.

Ginny ran a hand through her hair again, shifting her weight to one foot. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to… someone.' He finished lamely.

"Someone in particular?"

Harry shrugged. Ginny sighed inwardly; getting him to talk when he didn't want to was like trying to get Fred and George to behave at family get-togethers. She was determined to catch his eye; he was looking around everywhere else but her, as though trying to find the quickest escape route. She examined him with a frown. He looked exhausted, both physically and mentally. His eyes were red and his hair was sticking up even more than usual, most likely a result from him running his hands through it so much from stress. He was hunched over looking pale and drained, and she wanted to hug him but knew she couldn't, and it was very hard. She hadn't seen him for nearly five months after all.

Ginny wanted to say something to end the uncomfortable silence, but she only got as far as opening her mouth before she heard her name being called from behind her.

She looked around. "Oh, Colin!"

Colin Creevy waved and jogged merrily up the front outdoor steps. "Hey, Gin, I thought I saw you come up this… oh, _Harry_!"

Harry dopily took Colin's hand and let him shake it warmly, amazed that he was actually looking _up_ at the young photographer. "Hi, Colin."

"Brilliant to see you again!' said Colin happily, still vigorously shaking Harry's hand. 'Been a dreadful bore without you here, son. Come back to re-enroll? Make our lives more interesting?"

"No, sorry,' laughed Harry, taking his hand back.

Ginny rolled her eyes with a smile and hit Colin playfully in the chest with the back of her hand. "Down boy."

Colin glared at her with a smirk.

Harry openly stared at Colin in slight amazement. He couldn't believe how different he looked. He was tall, probably as tall as Ron, and lean with blue jeans and a black t-shirt that was probably a size to small for him yet seemed to be the fashion anyway. His hair was still short, yet in a different style. He had his wand poking out of his pocket and stood with a confident grace. It was a startling change from the boy Harry had known only last year, as was this new close friendship he seemed to have developed with Ginny. Harry looked at Ginny expectantly, as if awaiting an explanation for this behavior.

Ginny saw him looking, finally, and wanted to throw him a smug look. He looked confused and left out and perhaps a little jealous. She knew what they must look like; as soon as Colin had stood next to her she had been drawn to him and leant up against him as if by habit. She was tired, and her routine lately after a long day was to flop down on the fluffy red couches, or collapse into the grass, with Colin next to her and share in a whine about their day. She didn't care if Harry was jealous. Why should he be? This is what he wanted, isn't it?

Colin, noticing the two of them looking determinedly at one another, cleared his throat. "Uh, sorry, don't mean to interrupt… but Ginny, I got those photo's you wanted, but I can't get them to you until I send the memory card home and get Dad to print them out on the computer."

"What? Oh yes, that's fine,' said Ginny, blinking, 'thank you again for doing it."

"I took photos of the team,' Colin told Harry, who was looking confused, 'Ginny asked me yesterday, and I got this new digital camera for my birthday and I've been dying to use it. Only problem is I can't use the solution to make them move like I could with my old camera, but it's a better quality shot, you know."

Harry looked at the little silver camera Colin was holding up. "Oh yeah… right."

Colin's smile fell a little. Ginny frowned at Harry.

Another awkward pause.

Colin sighed, slipped his camera in his pocket and clapped his hands together. "Well, my stomach demands food. Er… Demelza and I will save you a seat, will we?'

"Thanks, Colin,' said Ginny with a smile, 'and save one for Luna too, in case she decides she wants to eat all our treacle again."

"I always do,' smiled Colin. He smiled and Harry and held his hand out again. 'Great to see you again Harry!"

Harry smiled and shook Colin's hand. "You too, Colin."

Colin smiled, squeezed Ginny's upper arm and walked off toward the Great Hall.

Harry watched him go over his shoulder and sniffed in amusement. "Well, he's… different."

"You haven't seen him in a while,' said Ginny, shifting her weight to the other foot.

"What happened to him?"

Ginny laughed at Harry. "He grew up."

Harry looked back around to see her watching him. "You two seem…close."

"He's a good friend,' said Ginny, 'he's been there a lot for me this year. It's been hard without you here, you know."

"Ron and Hermione would have come back."

"I wasn't talking about them."

Harry looked at her through his fringe. Ginny looked back at him determinedly. When it looks like he wasn't going to say anything, Ginny continued.

"How is my big brother anyway? And Hermione? How are they getting on?"

"Disgustingly well,' said Harry, a flicker of a smile gracing his features, 'It's got to the point where I can't tell if they're kissing or cleaning each other."

Ginny laughed. "Ron always was one for enthusiasm, and Hermione… well, Mum always said to look out for the quiet ones."

Harry smiled and turned up his nose. "Yeah, well, I'd rather not look out for them if you know what I mean. They always seem to be strategically placed in the house, as if the Universe knows I'm going to walk up that way and catch them snogging. They were even out the front of the bathroom once… I don't want to touch that with a ten foot pole."

"Is it strange?' she asked. 'Seeing them together?"

"Well, I'm not normally accustomed to seeing people so permanently joined at the mouth. How do they breathe, I wonder…"

"No, that's not what I meant,' she said, 'is it strange seeing _them_? Is it odd seeing them that way after so many years?"

Harry frowned. "Actually… no."

Ginny quirked an eyebrow. "No? But you just said…"

"I know,' he said, cutting her off softly, 'and I think if you'd spent as much time with them as I have you'd know what I was talking about."

"Yeah, you're right,' said Ginny, 'that whole living my entire life with Ron right down the hall were totally irrelevant to anything."

Harry gave her a look. "That's Ron; I'm talking about Ron and Hermione. The both of them together. You don't know them like I do. Seeing them this way, it kind of makes me think that all their years as 'just friends'… it makes me think that maybe _that_ was the charade."

Ginny smiled. "Nice thought, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"That maybe some people are just meant to be together."

There was that tension again, so thick you felt like you would suffocate. Harry wanted to do so many things at once. She was just standing there with a smile on her face and he wanted to kiss her and hug her and shake her and fall at her knees and beg her to tell him everything was going to be alright. His heart was pounding and he wanted to reach out and just touch her, but he was terrified Voldemort would catch him. He didn't wanted Voldemort to know, and if Harry felt anything too strong Voldemort would feel it. Ginny took a tiny step closer to him and gripped the handle of her broomstick tightly, as if it were the only outlet she had for wanting to grab him and shake him.

Suddenly, snapping out of his stupor he laughed nervously and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, err… its getting late, and you're probably tired and hungry, so… er, so I'll just get going."

Ginny blinked as he began backing away. "What? Already?"

"Well, yeah."

"Surely you can stay a bit longer!' she laughed nervously. 'Stay and have dinner with us. We can make Luna shove down"

"I don't fancy sitting at the Ravenclaw table, Ginny.

"No, Luna sits with us now. She sits at our table every meal time but no-one ever seems to notice anything strange about it, we're all so used to her now. She's like a surrogate Gryffindor in Ravenclaw robes."

Harry smiled. "It sounds nice, but I think I'll make a rain check."

"But…"

"No, really,' he said, 'I need to get back anyway. I'll, er… I'll tell Ron and Hermione you said hi, will I?"

With one last quick smile that didn't reach his ears, he hunched his shoulders, shoved his hands in his pocket and quickly walked around her. He had to get out of this castle. Forget seeing Dumbledore tonight, he'd come back another day and pay his respects. He needed to go home.

Ginny stood on the spot, staring at the blank space he'd occupied just seconds before for a long moment before frowning and whirling around. "What, so that's it?"

Harry stopped and looked around at her. "Sorry?"

"You come all the way to Hogwarts for the first time in months and you'll talk to _Colin_ but you won't even say two words to me?' said Ginny irritably.

"I've already outstayed my welcome,' said Harry.

"No, that's not what this is!' snapped Ginny, rushing over to him. 'This has nothing to do with outstaying a welcome; you know you could spend the rest of the year here and you _still_ wouldn't have outstayed your welcome! This is about me, isn't it?"

Harry sighed, slipped his fingers under his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Ginny…"

"What, we can't even talk anymore?' she said. 'We can't even be in the same room? I haven't seen you since Christmas, Harry! And you barely even spoke to me _then_!"

"I can't do this with you now,' he said firmly, stepping around her.

"If you cant do it now then when?' snapped Ginny. 'Should I book an appointment with your secretary? Do I have to put it in writing? Or do all requests have to go through your manager?"

"Only on Wednesdays and Fridays,' muttered Harry.

Ginny frowned and took slow, deep breaths. This isn't how she wanted their first real after so long conversation to go. But he hadn't written to her or anything; all her frustrations about their whole situation were tumbling out of her mouth and she was helpless to stop herself.

Ginny ran back in front of him and blocked his path. "Harry, please. I'm sorry. Just don't go like this. Stay for a while."

"I can't, Ginny,' he said. 'I need to get home."

"They can handle the fort without you for another half an hour, surely,' said Ginny. She stepped in closer to him, pretending not to notice when he flinched. 'Please, Harry. I just… I need something to show me that this is still alright."

"It _isn't_ alright,' he said flatly. 'Me being here… talking to you… seeing you… none of it is alright. I can't do this."

"And you think I can?' she asked incredulously. 'You think it gets any easier? You think I'm over you by now?"

Harry clenched his jaw and made to step around her again, but again she blocked his path. Her frustration was back and her eyes were red.

"Let me go, Gin,' he said flatly.

"I've _tried_,' she said, her voice breaking, 'don't you think I've tried? My God, Harry…' she took a moment to pull herself together; she took a few deep breaths and lowered her voice. 'It'd be so much easier if I could let you go… if I could just forget you… but I can't. And part of me doesn't want to. I don't feel myself if I don't feel this way about you. It's like cutting out a piece of me. I don't expect to be a couple again, that's ridiculous… but I feel like I'm in another world here, Harry. I walk around in a daze half the time, and I need something to wake me up. I thought it would get easier over time, but it hasn't. "

Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her off him. "Don't do this, Ginny."

Ginny frowned. "I haven't seen you in months! You might be able to switch yourself on and off so easily but I can't! I thought when we said goodbye at the train station back in September that we'd still be friends at least, but we've grown further apart! I can handle us breaking up, and I understand all your reasons and your logic…but I can't handle breaking apart completely. I need you as a friend, Harry. I need you in my life. What did you expect of me when you bumped into me just now? What did you expect me to do?"

"I…' he paused, frowning, '…I expected you to say goodbye."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Right. The Good-bye scene. I come to you, heart in hand and announce my plans. You stare at me, pained, but then the Potter sarcasm kicks in. And I walk off, never getting what I came for."

He said nothing, just walked around her again. Ginny watched him go for another long moment, before she ran after him.

'You love Ron and Hermione too, I _know_ you do! You don't have to say it, it's written all over your face. You say you care about me too much to let anything happen to me, but what about them? They get to fight with you because it's them, and I have to stay here? How is that fair?"

"It isn't!' snapped Harry, whirling on her. Ginny recoiled. 'None of this is fair! Do you think this is how I wanted things to be? Of course it isn't. I'd give anything for all this to be someone else's destiny, for someone else to be The Boy Who Lived… for you and me to…' he paused and pulled himself together. 'But I can't, and so you'll have to deal with this just as much as I do. You're safe here, Ginny, don't foolishly risk yourself by throwing that luxury away just because you're bored. This…this is your life now, and you should enjoy it."

"How can I enjoy it without you?" she said.

"I'm trying to do what's right here, okay?' he hissed. 'I'm trying to think with my head for once instead of my heart."

"_Heart_?' she scowled, hurt. 'You have a heart left?"

Harry frowned. "Don't."

"Don't what?' she snapped. 'Don't care about you? I'm sorry, but you know what, I didn't know that I got a choice in that. I'm never going change. I _can't_ change. I know you think this is the right thing to do, but how can it be when it makes us so miserable? Don't pretend you don't miss me, I _know_ you do just as much as I miss you.'

She placed a hand on his cheek and stroked his cheekbone with the pad of her thumb. Harry's eyes fell closed and he seemed to relax into her touch as if he were drinking after ten years lost in the desert.

'I can fight with you.' She said. 'I can be with you despite everything that's happening. It doesn't have to be the way it was, it can be different…"

"You don't know what you're saying.' He frowned.

"Yes I do! Don't patronize me!' snapped Ginny. 'I'm not eleven years old anymore, Harry."

"For the love of God! What is _wrong_ with you people?' cried Harry, clenching his fists. Ginny backed off, surprised by his sudden surge of anger. 'Don't you see that I'm trying to help you? That I'm to _protect_ you?"

"I don't need your protection,' said Ginny, 'I can take care of myself."

"So could Dumbledore,' snapped Harry, 'look how well that turned out."

Ginny shut her mouth. Harry looked like he'd just gone up against seven Dementors, and she hated herself for making him this way. Maybe she was being selfish, but she didn't care. Seeing him again after so long was bringing up so many emotions she could barely stand it.

"I know there will be risks, Harry… but I want to face them with you.' She said softly.

"I…"

Harry took slow, deep breaths. She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder, right up against his neck. Her hand was soft and cool against his flushed skin, and it was taking every ounce of strength not to give into her.

He swallowed. "I… don't."

Ginny's brown eyes flashed and her chin quivered. She bit her lip and looked down at her shoes. "You don't want to be with me?"

"Of course I do,' said Harry softly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'You're all I want all the time. But that's not the issue here. I can't do this now. I told you there are things I have to do, and I can't do them with you around. I'll worry about you too much. Ron and Hermione are already enough of a distraction, not to mention Mum. And if you were there…' He took Ginny's wrist again, softly this time, and gave her her hand back.

"Is it because we're in the middle of a war?' she asked. 'We were in the middle of a war last year and that didn't stop you."

"Things were different last year,' said Harry.

"Ron and Hermione can be together, Remus and Tonks can be together…' she said softly, '… why can't we?"

Harry sighed. "I thought you understood all this, Ginny."

"I do,' she said, 'I know that you have all this to do and I know you can't be with me… but that doesn't make it any easier. I was under the impression that we could still talk to one another. That we could at least still be _friends_."

"How can you be friends with someone when every time you see them you think about how much more you really want?" he said.

Ginny twisted the broom handle in her hands and looked down at her feet. Her red hair fell around her face, curtaining her sadness from view. "So… we can't even see one another at all?"

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "I wish we could, but every time I'm near you it gets harder and harder to leave. The saddest part of my day is leaving you, and I can't take it anymore. It's just… easier this way.' He startled her by putting a finger under her chin to make her look up at him. He was regretful and sad and she wanted to burst into tears. 'I'm sorry, Ginny."

Unable to take it anymore, Ginny let her broom fall to the ground with a clatter and threw her arms around him. Harry stiffened, but quickly relaxed and returned her tight embrace. He stroked her long hair and she held him firmly, not caring if she seemed desperate or needy. It took every once of control not to collapse into her; he knew if he did he would never get back. Ginny didn't want to let go. She knew that this was good-bye, and she was angry and sad and frustrated, and (god-forbid) this could be the last time she was ever going to see him. She didn't want to waste it.

He rubbed her back, knowing she finally understood. "Don't forget me."

"I won't remember anything else,' she whispered.

Time seemed to stop in her embrace. Harry felt warm; actual warmth emitting right from his core. He hadn't felt like that in what seemed years and he didn't want it to end. He wanted Voldemort to feel this, to feel pain from it, to be hurt like Harry was being hurt by being forced to let her go. She was so soft in his arms and they seemed to fit so right, but he had to let her go. He couldn't risk her life just because he wanted to feel warm. That was selfish. An entire world needed him to be strong and focused, and as much as he wanted to stay like this always, he knew he wouldn't be able to live with the guilt of letting everyone down.

So, after a very long moment, he pulled back and took her by the arms. She was crying now, tears running down her cheek and Harry felt horrible. He rubbed her arms comfortingly and gave her a small smile. She nodded and wiped her eyes, a silent vow passing between them.

_I have to go. I know. I'll miss you. I'll miss you too. I love you. So do I. I'm sorry it had to be this way. I won't forget you._

He took her face in her hands and almost by habit he leant in to kiss her. She turned her face up ready, but Harry stopped, his lips hovering millimeters from hers. He looked down at her, so close he could see little tear droplets still in her eyelashes. He pulled back again, smiled and wiped them away with his thumb. Ginny opened her eyes and smiled sadly.

Harry sighed. "I have to go."

Ginny nodded. Harry rubbed her upper arms, gave her one last smile and finally let her go. Ginny stood still as he walked around her, his shoulder only just brushing up against her. She hugged herself again as she slowly turned around to watch him go. It was exactly like it had been after Dumbledore's funeral; watching him walk off into the distance, watching him walk away from her. And again, she wasn't going to stop him, because it would have hurt him to do so and she didn't want to hurt him. He was out the door, the sun beaming down on his black head as he was half way down the stairs.

"Just because you're leaving,' she called, 'doesn't mean I'm letting you go!"

Harry stopped. He turned his head to the side, and she caught the glint of his glasses in the sun, but he didn't turn around. Instead, he hunched his shoulders and continued walking.

Ginny watched him as he shrunk into the distance; as he crossed the grounds, walked out the front gates and finally disappeared with a tiny 'pop'. She sighed and felt her knees buckle and released the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She took two steps back, held her hand out over her broom and wordlessly commanded '_Up'_; the broom flew up into her hand effortlessly.

And with one last look out into the grounds, she wiped her eyes again, turned on her heel and headed up back to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

A/N – If only you guys realized how soon your request for Ginny would come! I know she might have come across as selfish and annoying, but imagine how you would feel in her position. Even if you did understand Harry's reasons, it doesn't mean you have to like it. She never really got much say, and I personally think that would have really annoyed her. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter nonetheless! Do you recognize quotes? I occasionally borrow some to help get across the point, I hope you all don't mind!

Please review!


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43!

* * *

"Pardon me,'

Tonks looked up from her papers at her cousin standing over her. She smiled. "Since when do you say 'pardon me' to me?"

"Since now."

"Draco, the only people who say 'pardon me' are sissy goody too-shoes."

Draco shifted uncomfortably. "Hardly the point."

"Get to the point quickly then, I'm busy."

"I want my wand back."

Tonks looked up. "Pardon me?"

Draco sighed and sat down on the desk. "Nymphadora, this abstinence has gone on long enough. I think I have proven myself worthy by now, and I would like my manly-hood restored."

"Do you even know how bad that sentence sounded?"

"Nymphadora, please, stay focused!' said Draco impatiently. 'I want my wand back…_please_."

Tonks pursed her lips. "Draco, first of all…_don't_ call me Nymphadora."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Secondly?"

"Secondly…I don't think you're ready to have your wand back."

"Why in Merlin's name not?"

Tonks said nothing, just went back to her work.

Draco frowned and began pacing. The walls of Grimmauld Place suddenly seemed to be closing in, and he felt more claustrophobic than ever. He glared down at the top of Tonks's bright blue head as he continued to brood. He had been patient. More patient, in fact, than he had ever been in his life. In fact, come to think of it, until recently Draco had never even needed to exercise the previously mythically believed emotion known as 'patience'. It used to be that what Draco wanted he would have right when he wanted it, and Merlin help you if you denied him. But that was then, back when things still made sense. Tonks was stubborn and did not take any nonsense from him. If he threw a fit, she would simply roll her eyes and walk away and would only speak to him again until he was ready to act his age and not his shoe size. She was different than anyone he had ever met before, and he still couldn't make up his mind about her. Did he hate her? Did he care about her? There were some days he thought it could be both – and that was odd.

"Stop dancing in front of my desk and go do something,' she laughed after a few minutes.

"You know, you're right. Maybe I could go for a walk, enjoy the warm evening, take in the scenery… oh, but wait…' he trailed off with a glare in her direction.

Tonks sighed. "It's not my decision."

"Even if it was, would you let me out?' he asked.

"Well, I didn't last time…"

"Its different now, isn't it?' he asked.

Tonks looked up at him. Was he really being serious with her? Or had his acting skills improved? Tonks prided herself on being able to sniff out a liar, and her instinct told her he was actually being sincere. It was startling, sometimes, the changes in him since the first day he had rocked up on her doorstep.

She ruffled her hair. "Everything's different now, but I still don't know if I would let you out alone."

Draco frowned. "What do I have to do to prove myself to you, Nymphadora? I give up my magic, I help Potter, I stop calling Granger Mud-…er, you-know-what…"

"And you think that redeems you?" she asked.

"I think it proves that, like I've been saying since day one, my presence here does not veil a hidden agenda!' he snapped.

Tonks blinked. "Draco, that's not…"

"Do you have any idea how hard it has been without my wand?' snapped Draco. 'How hard it has been without magic?"

"You've used wandless magic."

"Once! And all I did was make Potter sit down! Not really a lethal maneuver… unless Potter is mortally afraid of chairs.' He glowered. He leant on the table and fixed her with a look. 'I need my wand, Nymphadora. I _need_ it. You have deprived me long enough. I'm loosing my mind here. I'm frustrated, sitting around this house, doing nothing but what Potter and his lackeys ask me to do. I am sick of being their lapdog – no more. I want my dignity back. I want my magic back. I have not asked you for anything until now."

"Yes you have,' said Tonks flatly, 'and you're going to need to give me a better reason than that, Draco. You owe me a better reason."

Draco sighed and stood up. He ran a hand through his long hair and looked up at the ceiling. "There's a war coming, Nymphadora. It's been coming for years, and only now we are standing on the precipice ready to leap in head first. I won't be modest; I hold my life in high esteem – part of the reason why I haven't hit Weasley and Potter in the face by now. If I want to live through this I want to be able to protect myself. How can I do that without my wand?"

"I'll protect you.' She said simply.

Draco instantly imagined him standing in a field amongst thousands of people, lights flashing, curses flying everywhere, people falling to the ground dead, and him standing in the middle of it all, his hands bare as a masked figure came running toward him, wand raised, and a flash of green emitting from the tip, and Draco trapped still with fear, and just as the curse was drawing closer someone stepped in front of him and they instead were absorbed in a flash of green, and they went limp and fell backward into his arms, and Draco looked down into the face of Nympadora Tonks, her eyes wide with shock yet peaceful at the same time.

Draco flinched.

"Don't you think you have protected me enough?' he said, his voice croaky.

"It has nothing to do with a monthly quota, Draco,' said Tonks with a small smile, 'it's just…" the trailed off, shut her mouth and looked away from him.

"My motives are not sinister,' said Draco, ignoring the moment of uncomfortable silence, 'I just want the feeling of it in my hand. I want to feel the magic flowing through me. I want to know that I'm still a wizard."

Tonks considered him long and hard. She ground her teeth together and narrowed her eyes, giving him 'the look' like she had the day he had arrived on her doorstep last August to determine his true motives by his physical reaction. But either he was really telling the truth for once, or he had gotten to used to 'the look' that it no longer affected him.

He folded his arms over his chest with a smirk. "Don't you think its time we started trusting each other?'

"One of us isn't ready yet,' she said, raising an eyebrow.

She got to her feet, came around the table, moved behind Draco, put her hands on his shoulders and began walking him to the door. Draco didn't protest, just heaved a loud sigh.

"Your cues for my exit aren't very subtle, Nymphadora.'

"You'll get your wand back, Draco,' she said softly, 'I promise, one day you will."

"But when?' he asked, turning at the door.

"When I think you're ready,' said Tonks. 'Now, go downstairs and apologize to Ron for putting a Tarantula in his underwear drawer."

"I told you that wasn't me!"

Tonks gave him a look.

Draco sighed. "Fine. But I will do it with a smug smile on my face."

"I expect you will."

----------------------

When Ron entered the dining room he wasn't surprised to find Harry sitting on the table. He had, after all, asked Ron to meet him in there. Harry didn't look up right away; his head was bowed, his feet were resting on one of the chairs and he was hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees. His hands were clasped together and he almost looked as if he were praying. It wasn't a rare sight to see Harry like this, hunched over, or head bowed, or leaning against something as if it were the only thing holding him up – in fact, it was becoming more and more rare to see him smile or look happy. Ron hated seeing him like this, but was at a loss of how he could help. So he did what he always did in this situation – acted like nothing was wrong.

"Are you counting the cracks in the floor?' he asked, crossing over to Harry.

Harry looked up over the top of his glasses. "I haven't reached that level of insanity yet."

"You could have fooled me,' said Ron, clapping Harry on the back. 'So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Not so much talk…"

Ron frowned as Harry reach out behind him and grabbed Godric Gryffindor's sword. He held it up, blade pointing toward the sky and admired it thoughtfully for a long moment, as if it were whispering something to him.

"So… you want to give me a lobotomy?' asked Ron, taking a step back. 'Sorry to disappoint you, mate, but I'm really not into that sort of thing. And, really, who would be? Muggle Healers are bloody crazy."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched. He looked at Ron, lowered the sword and held the handle out for him to take. "Show me some of your fancy moves."

Ron took the sword gingerly. He felt rude; as if intruding on someone's privacy, but since Harry had received the sword a week ago he had been dying to have a go. "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded.

Hesitantly, Ron took a few steps back. He looked at Harry again to make sure he wasn't yanking his chain, but Harry's face was neutral as he just looked at Ron, waiting patiently. Ron felt suddenly very self-conscious; he'd never really gone for it with someone other than Bill watching him before. But this was Harry, and if he couldn't do it in front of him then who?

Ron rubbed his thumb along the handle and over the rubies. It was smooth and cool. He jiggled it loosely in his hand, getting a feel for the weight. He had always thought it would be heavier than it actually was; but, then again, the last time he had seen this sword he had been twelve with the muscle tone of a malnourished chicken. He twirled it in his hand, feeling the clean whoosh breeze past his ear and ruffle his hair. He thrust and parried and jabbed all with absurd ease and couldn't help but smile.

"Blimey,' he laughed, 'this is one bloody good sword! Even after a thousand years I bet it could slice your arm right off."

"Well, it went right through Basilisk scales,' said Harry, propping up his chin in the heel of his hand. 'And I have a suspicion Dumbledore used it as a letter opener."

Ron laughed and continued to twirl, parry, thrust, jab and slash all in an increasingly quick succession. Harry watched, fascinated at how well Ron was at this. His reflexes were good, and Harry felt a twinge of hopeless irritation that Ron could not have used these skills on the Quidditch field. It was like watching The Count of Monte Cristo or Braveheart in his own dining room.

Harry smiled. "You like it?"

"Its brilliant!' smiled Ron.

"Good… cause it's yours."

Ron stopped mid-jab.

He looked around at Harry and frowned. "Come again?"

Harry shrugged. "The sword… it's yours."

"But… I don't…' Ron stammered, shocked. He looked down at the sword, then at Harry, then back down at the sword, and then back at Harry. Harry just watched him look between the two of them, a small smile on his face.

Ron laughed finally and crossed over to Harry. "This is a joke, right?"

Harry shook his head.

Ron frowned. "What do you mean its mine? You're just… _giving_ it to me?"

Harry nodded.

"Just like that?"

Harry nodded.

"But…_why_?' laughed Ron in disbelief. 'Dumbledore gave you this sword! He wanted _you_ to have it!"

"He gave it to me to do with as I saw fit,' said Harry, 'and I want to give it to you."

"But…"

"It's a sword, Ron,' chuckled Harry, 'what the blazes am I going to do with it? I'd just put it back in his case and stick it on the mantelpiece in the living room. But you… you'll use it. You _can_ use it."

"So can you,' said Ron, 'you've used it before…"

"When I was twelve and half beaten to death,' reasoned Harry, 'now I'm likely to poke my eye out or stab my foot or something. No, it's better in your hands."

"I still don't understand,' said Ron.

Harry sighed. "When I was talking to Dumbledore that morning after we'd come out of the Chamber, he told me that only a real Gryffindor could have pulled it out of the Sorting Hat… and who's more Gryffindor than the Weasleys?

Harry stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. 'I want you to have it, Ron. If it helps, think of it as a late birthday present."

Ron laughed, looked down at the sword and then looked up at Harry. Harry's hand was still on Ron's shoulder, and he suddenly felt very emotional for some reason. He was giving him the sword of Godric Gryffindor himself, something that Dumbledore, Harry's mentor, had given him. It was hard not to be affected by something like that.

"Are you sure this isn't a Horcrux?' asked Ron.

"Pretty sure,' said Harry, 'or, at least Dumbledore seemed to think so."

"But its Gryffindors', isn't it?' said Ron, eyeing the sword with caution, 'how do you know? It could be and Dumbledore's had it under his nose this entire time."

"No, I agree with him,' said Harry. 'Remember he told me that only a real Gryffindor could pull it out of the Sorting Hat, and Voldemort isn't really the poster boy for our house now is he? He wouldn't have been able to get it."

"He could have bewitched a Gryffindor into doing it for him,' suggested Ron.

Harry pursed his lips. He hadn't considered this option. After a moment, he shook his head. "No, he can't have. The Sorting Hat wouldn't give it to just anyone. And besides, how would he get the sword back in there? And how did even know it was in there in the first place?"

Satisfied, Ron nodded, slung an arm around Harry's shoulders and gave him a rough, side-on hug. "Thanks mate. I promise I'll take right-good care of it."

"I know you will,' smiled Harry. 'I'll leave you to it, then."

Ron smiled and moved back into the middle of the room. Harry edged around him, making his way out. He stopped at the stairs to look back; Ron was still staring at it in wonder as he continued to practice his moves. Harry was glad to see him happy, and even gladder to be the cause of it. He turned and left, guessing that Ron wouldn't miss him.

But he only got up the stairs and half-way down the hall when he crossed paths with Draco Malfoy.

Draco rolled his eyes, as if sick of the sight of Harry. "Have you seen Weasley anywhere?"

"Why?' growled Harry. 'Want to put some cockroaches in his hair?"

"No, that would be amusing,' said Draco casually.

"You almost gave him a heart attack!'

"He put itching powder in my underwear!' retorted Draco. 'Any coronary or arterial damage he may have incurred as a result is his own fault. You do not mess with a Malfoy's undergarments and expect to be let of lightly."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "And to that, an extreme 'see you later'."

Leaving him standing in the middle of the hallway, Harry ignored Draco's muttered protests and trudged upstairs.

Draco watched him go, offended. He hadn't answered his original question. Feeling indignant and put out, Draco squared his shoulders and marched down the stone steps into the dining room… and stopped dead when he saw Ron twirling a sword around. Not just out of fear (a Weasley waving around a sharp implement was no laughing matter), but out of surprise and curiosity. Lucius had always tried to impress upon Draco the ancient art of melee, and Draco had taken to it as well as could be hoped for. He was naturally quick and light on his feet, and Draco was proud to say that in their many sparring sessions he had managed to get a one-over over his father more and more as the years had progressed. Draco knew when someone was talented, and Ron, he had to admit, was not a mindless buffoon waving around a club, but actually seemed to have some idea of what he was doing.

Draco cleared his throat.

Ron stopped and looked around. The sword was raised, mid-slash, but he didn't make to lower it. Instead, he twirled it with his wrist and pointed the tip right at Draco's heart.

"Turn out your pockets."

"Oh please, Weasley, if I was going to ambush you with spiders I surely would not have them concealed in my pockets,' smirked Draco. But he turned out the pockets of his jeans all the same.

Ron's eyes narrowed. "You're a bastard."

Draco edged sideways, not at all comfortable with a blade aimed at his chest. "Yes, well… that seems to be the general consensus among you people, doesn't it?"

"You haven't really tried to prove us wrong, have you?"

"I'm afraid I do not feel the need,' said Draco, sitting down on top of the table as Harry had moments ago. 'I have nothing to prove to you. You don't deserve the effort required."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Why do you talk like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like it's the bleeding fourteen hundreds!"

Draco smirked and flicked through a book absentmindedly. "Just because your miniscule brain can't keep up with the words I'm using…"

Ron rushed forward and put the tip of the sword right under Draco's chin. Draco immediately shut his mouth.

"I can keep up,' said Ron, glaring at him, 'and my brain isn't _miniscule_."

Draco held his hands up in relent, but kept his eyes locked with Ron. He didn't show any reaction at all. "You're the one with the sword."

"And if I wasn't?"

"I would probably have some witty comeback for you about how un-evolved I really think you are."

Ron let out a huff of anger and stepped away from Draco – he didn't see Draco let out a sigh of relief. Ron paced furiously, twirling the sword with his wrist. Draco just watched him, amused.

"You know,' said Ron finally, 'you'd think after everything you've been through and everything you've done, your opinions about things may have changed. But no! You still dislike Hermione because of her background; you still rag on me about my family even when you have less money than us…"

"I've been rich, and I've been poor. Trust me, Weasley,' said Draco, 'rich is better."

"None of that should matter anymore!' snapped Ron. 'You're in the same boat!"

"No, no, you've always had that wrong about me. I really am this shallow."

Ron glared. "Say it. You think you're better than me."

"I am. Always have been.' Said Draco simply.

"Why?' retorted Ron. 'Because you were rich? Because Daddy gave you everything you ever wanted?"

Draco sighed and examined his fingernails. "You're just jealous, Weasley. And I don't blame you. Who wouldn't be? I'm ridiculously handsome and I have more wealth than you could ever make in four lifetimes. What do _you_ have?"

Ron looked at him incredulously. "You really do think you're better than we are."

"Of course."

"But we don't know."

Draco frowned. "Pardon me?"

"We don't know if you're actually better,' said Ron. 'I mean, you came into the world with certain advantages, sure. I mean, that's the Malfoy legacy, right? But you didn't earn it. You didn't work for it. You've never had anybody come up to you and say you deserve these things more than anyone else. They were just handed to you. So that doesn't make you _better_ than us, Malfoy… it makes you _luckier_ than us."

Ron took a few steps away from Draco and began practicing again. Draco looked at him with a slight frown as his words echoed around his head.

"You want to know what I have that you don't, Malfoy?' said Ron, twirling the sword around him in a blur of silver. 'I have friends. I have family. I have pride, and dignity, and loyalty. I have my self-respect. I have something to live for and to die for. I have a wand. I have a home. And that's what makes me rich, not the amount of galleons in my vault at Gringotts."

"I had all that once.' Said Draco.

"And then you went and lost it all, because you were shallow and ego-centric and didn't think of anyone else but yourself, just like your old man."

Draco's eyes flashed. In one quick movement, he leapt up off the table and ran through to the kitchen. Ron flinched; worried that he had pushed him too far… and his fears were affirmed when Draco stormed back into the kitchen brandishing a cutlery knife. He raised it high and marched right toward Ron, and Ron realized that he was going to stab him. Ron tensed up and raised the sword. He didn't want to hurt Draco, but he would if he had to, and by the look on Draco's face and the way he was clutching the knife it looked like he might have to. Draco let out a cry; Ron panicked and raised the sword defensively…

_CLANG_.

Ron clutched the sword tightly in his hand as it vibrated with the force. He looked up at Draco in amazement, no longer holding a cutlery knife in his hands but a steel longsword the size of the sword Ron was holding. Draco looked at Ron, his grey eyes narrowed. Neither boy moved, the two swords connected in the middle.

"Did…' panted Ron, still shocked, '…did you make that knife…"

Draco pulled his sword downward against Ron's blade with a '_shhhhiing'_ and they both stepped back. He looked at the sword in his hand, impressed with himself. "I guess I did."

Ron flinched. He was getting increasingly good with wandless magic and it was unnerving. To have the ability to control magic without a wand to concentrate it was very hard and a great ability barely any wizards possessed. For Draco to be developing the ability was not a comforting thought; it made him dangerous if he decided he wanted to suddenly turn on them. Ron had always wondered what would happen if you deprived a wizard long enough of his ability to do magic – it looked like he was starting to get his answer.

"Well,' said Draco conversationally as he twirled the sword with his wrist, 'seen as we're standing here, each with a sword in his hand and the desire to belt the living out of one another…"

"Wait!" cried Ron as Draco ran forward.

Draco stopped suddenly. "What's wrong, Weasley? Scared?"

Ron said nothing, just pulled his wand out of his pocket.

Despite the fact he was holding a lethal object, Draco's eyes widened. "Now, Weasley, that's not fair… be a good sport now… no magic…"

But Ron merely cast a spell upon both their wands. The blades glowed blue for a few moments and then faded, leaving them gleaming like before.

"I dulled them,' said Ron, putting his wand in his back pocket, 'we don't want to spar with live blades. We'll cut each other to pieces."

"Not really seeing a problem with that,' said Draco.

Ron smiled and stood at the ready.

-----------

Harry leant against the doorway and watched in amusement as Hermione worked like a mad scientist, measuring out and adding ingredients, stirring and adjusting. She reminded him of one of those old cliché witches you saw in cartoons that stood over a massive black cauldron with their wart noses and pointy hats who laughed manically as if it were insanely funny. He didn't dare tell her this; he very much liked his head attached to his body.

"I thought you were done with this,' said Harry finally coming into the room.

Hermione only glanced up at him quickly. "Well, it was such a brilliant idea I thought I should make some for the rest of us just in case we get into a sticky situation and, for whatever reason, haven't got our wands in our hand."

Harry nodded and flopped down into one of the chairs opposite her.

She looked up at him, this time for good. His head was lowered, his chin resting on his chest as he slouched deep in the chair; he looked as though he'd just run ten miles.

"Do you mind?' she chuckled.

"Are you busy?"

"Does it look like I'm busy?"

"Come do some dueling practice with me."

"Harry, I really can't, I have more potions to brew.' She said importantly. 'Besides, you don't need to be throwing curses around, not with the way you are at the moment. You're likely to blow half the house down."

"I'm fine,' he said darkly.

"Well go ask Ron, I'm busy."

"You've been brewing for days,' he said in a low voice, ignoring her. 'How much more can you make?"

Hermione threw him a look; Harry recognized it as her 'drop the subject before I drop this cauldron on your head' look, and he quickly shut his mouth. He let his head roll back and started up at the ceiling, trying to will away his headache.

Hermione frowned. "Are you alright?"

"Mnyeah,' he mumbled, 'jus' tired."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Go see Ron."

Harry stretched. "I jus' did."

"Oh yes? And what did the two of you talk about?"

"Girls, Quidditch, gave him Gryffindor's sword..."

Harry looked up at her, expecting her to be shocked. But she didn't look surprised at all, more pleased. She had a small smile on her face as she went back to her work.

"That was nice of you."

"You don't look surprised."

"I had a feeling you might end up doing it."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "Because you're you, and I like to think I know you better than most people. I know how much Ron means to you, even if you don't like to admit it to anyone, and I know that giving him the sword was probably one of the best ways you had to show him. Besides,' she added matter-of-factly, 'you're likely lop your arm of if you try to use it."

Harry scowled. "I _have_ used it before, you know."

"And so you just decided to leave him downstairs with nothing but a sharp implement and his large ideas?"

"No, I think Malfoy's talking to him."

Hermione put her ingredients down and fixed him with a look. "Did you happen to mention to Malfoy that Ron had a sword in his possession?"

Harry shrugged. "Must have slipped my mind."

"Well get some traction!' cried Hermione. 'Honestly, Harry! Ron could slice him up into little bits!"

"Here's hoping."

Hermione let out an indignant huff but didn't rush downstairs to save Draco, as Harry knew she wouldn't. She knew just as well as he did that Ron wouldn't really do anything like that… unfortunately.

Harry picked at the arm of the chair. "Come practice dueling with me."

"No. Did you read that book I gave you on the histological elements of North Yorkshire?"

"How do you even know that's where Gryffindor lived?'

"The Sorting Hat said it fourth year. '_Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor'_… and looking back at it the only place in the country where the term 'moor' could be applied is North Yorkshire. Well, North Yorkshire and possibly the South West of England, but that's broadening a street that doesn't necessarily need to be. Just look over the maps of North Yorkshire, I got pamphlets and looked into the history of the moors, for any caves or landmarks that may seem promising – Muggles sometimes overlook things that we can recognize instantly as something more. And if we can't find anything we'll just have to broaden it to the rest of the Southern part of the country."

Harry groaned.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, if it's too much trouble I suppose I could…"

"You do it.' Said Harry quickly. 'You're better with the whole research thing anyway. Knowing me I'd overlook something. Can we practice dueling now?"

"No. But if I find something in the moors we're going to have to go there and look at it properly. There's only so much you can see in a pamphlet, you know."

"You really think it could still be there?"

Hermione half-shrugged as she added more ingredients. "I have to admit, it's the best lead we have. You said Dumbledore disproved the theory that Gryffindor's sword was a Horcrux, so we need to start actually getting out and looking – even if it does risk exposing our plans. I agree with what you said yesterday, Voldemort could have Death Eaters patrolling the area, but we won't know until we get there."

"Well if we're going, why do I need to read all that stuff you got?"

"Harry, the National Park in which the moors are located is _huge_! The area is five hundred and fifty two square miles! We can't just go digging holes everywhere. There are visitors there every day. People come to look at the locations and the scenery, not to mention the agricultural life that inhabits it…"

"Yeah, alright,' sighed Harry, waving a hand dismissively. 'All this thinking makes my brain hurt – can we just go practice dueling now?"

"I told you, no, not today, I'm sorry."

Harry folded his arms over his chest and pouted. "I hate you."

Hermione smiled and smothered the blue flame underneath her cauldron. She retrieved some empty vials from the bookshelf behind her, not taking her eyes off Harry. He looked as though he could have fallen asleep right there in the chair, despite his awkward position. Hermione knew the feeling; some days she just felt so exhausted he felt as though she could have just propped herself up against the nearest wall and dozed off then and there. But it wasn't 'some days' for Harry… it was everyday lately. But even with all these obvious physical signs, she could see that he wasn't just tired, he was depressed and down and only just managing to keep his head above the surface of a sea of misery. She wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be alright… but how could she?

"So…' she began carefully, sitting down at the desk once more, '… I got an owl from Ginny the other day."

Harry looked up without lifting his head, peering at her over the top of his glasses through his messy black fringe. "You did?"

Hermione pressed her lips together and nodded.

Harry sighed. "Bugger."

"Don't be embarrassed."

Harry laughed. "You treat Ron the way I treated Ginny and see if you're not ashamed of yourself afterward."

"Yes, she did mention there was a little tension."

"A little?"

"Well, she didn't tell me _everything_.' Harry covered his face with his hands and Hermione frowned. 'Do you want to talk about it?"

"What's to talk about?' laughed Harry. 'I told her I can't ever see her again, she was upset, I left, end of story.' He shook his head in disbelief at himself and stared out the window. 'I really stuffed up, Hermione."

"You're trying to protect her,' said Hermione, 'you're trying to do what's right for her. No-one blames you for that, Harry."

"Ginny does,' said Harry, looking at Hermione. 'She hates me."

"No she doesn't,' said Hermione firmly.

"She should,' said Harry. 'I think she will eventually, and half of me doesn't mind. Half of me welcomes it, because it would make it easier for her. Hate is such a convenient thing to give in to, to embrace… that's why there's so much evil in the world – people just don't have the energy anymore to be good."

Hermione frowned. "But what about you? What does the other half of you feel?"

Harry squared his jaw. "The other half of me can barely stand the pain. The other half wants her so badly, not just for her as a person, but for what she represents."

"What does she represent?"

"Normalcy… hope… happiness…' he trailed off and shifted, sitting up a little. 'It hurts not to have her; to have all that. It hurt to give her away, but it'd hurt more to loose her all together, and I'm trying to save everyone the risk of that happening."

"But if she's here, we can keep an eye on her…"

"Look, I want her to stay there, end of story.' Said Harry firmly. 'You don't need to understand why, and I don't have to sit here repeatedly trying to defend myself and my decision. So just do me a favor and drop it, okay? I don't have control over much else anymore."

Hermione shrank into her seat. "I'm sorry."

Harry sighed. "Sorry, I didn't come up here to yell at you… but I didn't come up here to talk about Ginny either. So, seen as you refuse to practice dueling with me, can I just sit here and get high from these fumes without you questioning me?"

"I don't think that's very wise,' she said, '… but okay."

Harry looked up at her. She was smiling at him with a tiny upward quirk at the corners of her mouth, and Harry felt himself only vaguely repeat the gesture. Such a simple thing was such an effort lately. He looked at Hermione discreetly as she filled her vials up with the red liquid from her cauldron. She too looked tired, but she still had her inner fire burning if only at a simmer… something Harry felt was quickly dwindling into nothing in himself. He knew how she kept hers ignited, and as much as it pained him to do, it seemed Harry would have to rely on the two of them to keep his alive as well.

Trying to push the thought out of his head, Harry unclenched his muscles and tried to relax. His forehead was burning and he kept flinching involuntarily, but he had only just managed to slouch back into the seat when there was a soft knock at the door.

Lily smiled at the two teenagers. "Hermione, honestly, you need sunlight. Do you know what happens to people who spend all day bent over cauldrons?"

"They turn into Snape,' mumbled Harry.

"Exactly, they turn into Snape.' said Lily, pointing at Harry. 'You don't really want to turn into a Snape, now do you?"

Hermione smiled. "I assure you that won't happen."

"See that it doesn't, young lady, or I'll be having a few words with your parents,' smiled Lily. She looked at Harry and frowned a little; he looked so tired. 'Honey, can I have a word with you?"

Harry nodded and heaved himself up from his chair. He didn't notice Hermione watch him go.

Lily led him up the hallway until they were right out of earshot. Harry leant against the wall, hunched his shoulders forward and shoved his hands in his pockets; it brought him eye-level with his mother.

"What's up?' he asked drowsily.

Lily reached into her pocket and held it up in front of him. "I found this."

Harry sighed inwardly and looked away from the piece of paper. "Where did you find that?"

"In your jeans pocket."

"You went through my pockets?"

"I was doing laundry,' said Lily defensively, 'and I wouldn't have had to have gone into your room and checked your pockets for things if you had put all your clothes in the laundry basket like I had asked you to yesterday."

"Didn't mean you had to read it,' said Harry irritably.

Lily blinked. "Well, I'm sorry, but when I find a piece of paper with the heading 'Last Will and Testament' in my son's pockets feel the boundaries of privacy a tad redundant."

Harry clenched his jaw. "It's none of your business."

Lily just looked at him, eyebrows slightly raised.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you think you know better than me!' snapped Harry. 'Like you think I'm being ridiculous, or morbid, or overly dramatic."

"Watch the way you speak to me, please,' said Lily curtly.

"Dumbledore had one,' said Harry, 'Sirius had one, for God's sake _you and Dad_ had one…"

"That's different."

"_How_?' demanded Harry. 'I'm in as much shite now as you all were back then, maybe more!"

"_Language_,"

Harry sighed and banged the back of his head against the wall behind him. "Just once, I'd like to go one whole day without defending every little thing I do to everyone."

Lily folded the will up gingerly and slipped it back in her hip pocket. "Harry, I understand that you're trying to be responsible, but this… writing a Will… should be the last thing on your mind right now. You shouldn't be focusing on what has to happen if you die, you should be focusing on staying alive."

"I'm just being realistic,' said Harry sadly, 'you and I both know the odds of me coming out the other end of this with a pulse is very slim."

"Don't talk like that,' said Lily firmly, 'we're going to be fine. You're going to be fine."

"You don't know that,' he said, lifting his hands in a hopeless gesture, 'no-one knows that. We can't lie to ourselves and say we're all going to be alright, because we're not, and it's cruel to give people false hope."

"It isn't false hope, Harry, its real,' said Lily.

Harry shook his head. "There's no hope left."

Lily's shoulders slumped at the defeated tone in his voice. He was leaning heavily against the wall behind him, and she had a suspicion it was the only thing holding him up. He looked as if the weight of the world were literally on his shoulders; she reminded herself that, really, it actually was.

She reached out and smoothed the hair away from his face. "Hope is a good thing, Harry. Maybe the best of things. And a good thing never dies."

"But people do,' said Harry, opening his eyes and looking to hers, so like his own. 'And sometimes that's worse."

"I know, honey… I know."

Harry bit the corner of his lip; he wanted to go lie down, but he didn't want to leave her. Her presence was warm and soothing and he welcomed it. "Why do people have to die?"

Lily tried not to smile at the question and the childish, almost pouting manner in which he had asked. "Lots of reasons, many of them never fair or sensible to us. But do you want to know what I think?"

Harry nodded.

"I think that people die… to make life more important.' She said. 'None of us know how long we've got, which is why we have to make each day matter.'

"You have nice opinions,' he said softly.

Lily put her hands on her shoulders. "You have lots of decisions to make, Harry… more than any one person should ever have to make, especially at your age. And I don't want to be over-baring or try to influence you… but there's something I want you to do for me, okay?"

Harry nodded. "Name it and I'll do it."

"I want you to decide to live,' she said. 'I want you to take an hour, or a day, or a week if you have to, and try to remember why we're doing this. Try to remember why we're fighting, and why we're in pain and yes, even why some of us are dying. I just want you to really think about us, me, your friends… anything that makes you feel better… and I want you to embrace it. I want it to fill you up with that power I know is in there,' she said, putting a hand on his chest, 'you've just forgotten about it. There's so much pain in there."

"Maybe we like the pain.' He said softly. 'Maybe we're wired that way. Because without it, I don't know; maybe we just wouldn't feel real. What's that saying? Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop."

"But you're letting it consume you, and that isn't good,' she said firmly. 'You're right, pain does help sometimes – it motivates, drives us to do what we don't want to do, but you can't dwell on it. Take a few minutes to wallow, embrace it…but then discard it."

He looked at her and managed a smile. 'I'll do it, although I don't see what good it will do."

"It will make you feel better,' she said, 'and that's all the good in the world."

Harry nodded.

Lily looked at him expectantly.

Harry frowned. "What?"

"Don't just stand there looking beautiful! What are you waiting for?"

"You want me to go _now_?"

"No time like the present,' said Lily. She grabbed him by the shoulders, pulled him upright, turned him and pushed him up the hallway. 'Go to your room and don't come out until you're in a good mood."

Harry laughed, the muscles in his face groaning from the almost foreign expression. "Okay, but what about…"

"Forget it! I'll take care of it."

"But I've got…"

"I'll finish them."

"But what about…"

"_Harry_,' laughed Lily over his protests, 'don't make me ground you."

Harry smiled and nodded. "Yes, Mum… whatever you say."

Lily sighed. "There's a good boy. Run along now."

Only when he was completely out of sight did Lily let her smile fall. She let her head fall back and she collapsed against the wall, sinking down to the floor. She drew her knees up to her chest, put her elbows on her knees and put her head in her hands. She was slightly glad Harry had left when he had; she didn't think she would have been able to hold her happy, positive composure another minute.

Slowly she took in a deep breath and let it out again. The hallway was completely silent and for once it wasn't deafening. What was she going to do with her son? Lily was completely baffled as to how to handle him. She'd been around depressed people before; sometimes it felt as though her life was based around depressed people… but none of them had been Harry. None of them had had the weight of the world on their shoulders, none of them had sacrificed and lost as much as him, none of them were as young as him. When James used to get down, he was usually easily cheered up again. All you had to do was put a broomstick in his hand or send him over to Sirius and Remus's flat and he was right as rain. Harry was different. Although being in the same room as Ron or Hermione seemed to help, it didn't restore him completely. They seemed to remind him how much he was risking more than help him forget his troubles. She'd never seen him fly before and she was eager to witness it; Remus told her he was reckless and a natural, just like James had been. Maybe she could convince him to go flying with her one day.

Lily blinked as a pair of brown leather shoes entered her line of vision.

"Evans, what _are_ you doing down there?"

Lily didn't look up. "I'm thinking."

"On the floor?"

"You know I do my best thinking on the floor."

Remus smiled and sat down beside her, leaning his back against the wall. "Yes, I remember. I'm glad to see you've actually progressed to leaning against a wall instead of sprawled out in the middle of the hallway."

Lily couldn't help but smile. When she had been younger she had had some of the most peculiar studying habits her classmates had ever seen. Sometimes she would pace her room, reading aloud to herself in an upper-class, old fashioned Victorian accent, as if reciting poetry or acting in a stage play to help her remember more efficiently. Other times she made up songs with Potion ingredients for lyrics. But out of all her tricks, the most amusing was when she would lie sprawled in the middle of the floor with her textbook hovering above her. She could lie there for hours reading, and it wasn't restricted to the Gryffindor common room either; she would do it anywhere. She would do it in her room, in the stacks in the Library, in the middle of the Quidditch Field, even in the Prefect's bathroom. James had thought her studying techniques were the best thing since Chocolate Frogs, Sirius had called her a loony and laughed at her all in good humor, but it was Remus who had seriously questioned her sanity. And, as fate would have it, he always seemed to be the first one to find her. So finally, sick of months of his quirked eyebrows and negative attitude, she had made him lie down with her. At the start, like most things they did when they were at the beginning of their friendship, he had been very hesitant. But he had slowly warmed to it, and eventually whenever they studied together they would both lie on the floor with their books hovering above them, not a word spoken.

Remus crossed his legs at the ankle and folded his hands in his lap. "What's wrong?"

Lily said nothing, just reached into her pocket and handed him the folded-up paper. Remus gave her one last look before unfolding it carefully and reading. He only had to read the heading for his eyes to widen.

"Did Harry write this?' he asked quietly.

"He's writing a _Will_, Remus,' said Lily, her head falling back against the wall. 'He's a seventeen boy and he's thinking of how he's going to distribute what little earthly belongings he has. I thought I was grossly under qualified to be a parent when he told me he was the Boy Who Lived, but _this_…' she sighed and shook her head, '… how do I handle this?"

Remus looked at her. "I wish I had some helpful advice, but I'm afraid I'd find myself giving out parental advice to be rather hypocritical."

Lily slouched forward slightly and linked her fingers over her stomach. "James would have known what to do."

"No he wouldn't.'

"No, alright, he wouldn't,' smiled Lily, 'he would have come straight to me and we would have stared at one another blankly. But, then again… if James were here we all wouldn't be in this mess in the first place."

They exchanged a sad smile, and Lily laid her head on his shoulder and linked her arm through his. Remus didn't move, just let her relax in silence for a moment. He was good at that; knowing when to comfort and when to just be quiet.

"You know what I find interesting?' she asked after a long moment.

"Hmm?"

"If you lose a spouse, you're called a widow, or a widower. If you're a child and you lose your parents, then you're an orphan. But what's the word to describe a parent who loses a child?' she squeezed his arm with a sad smile. 'I guess that's just too awful to even have a name."

Remus patted her hand. "He'll be fine, don't worry."

Lily looked up at him. "Do you really believe that? Do you really think he can do it?"

"I don't presume…' he trailed off and pursed his lips. 'All I have is hope, and a belief that justice will be served."

"There is no justice,' she said, laying her head down on his shoulder again, 'if there were it would be me having to go through all this instead of him. I'd trade places with him in a heartbeat."

Remus said nothing. What could he say? He felt her lean against him more and squeeze his arm again. With an inward sigh, Remus linked his fingers through hers, held her hand tightly and leant his head on hers.

-------------

Tonks was just coming out of the study when it happened.

She had been going over Moody's requisition forms for hours, and to save her eyes from becoming permanently cross-eyed she decided she needed a change of scenery. Hiding the forms so no wandering eyes would take a peek, she got up from her desk, stretched her aching limbs and made to head downstairs to the kitchen to fix herself a large ham and salad sandwich.

But she had only reached the top of the stairs before she leapt back and planted herself flat against the wall.

"Ha! Missed me!"

"Who wouldn't? You're skinnier than a toothpick! It's a wonder you can even lift… _agh_… that thing with your chicken muscles!"

"Take back that heinous comment or die!"

Ron laughed menacingly, raised the sword above his head to block Draco's downward slash and kicked Draco in the middle. Draco fell to the floor with a thud, and just as Ron brought the sword down to hit him he rolled out of the way and quickly scrambled to his feet. They both stood very still and glared at one another, each waiting for the other to move first.

And then in a split second apart they both lunged for each other again, their swords meeting with a loud 'clang'.

Tonks watched in horror and amazement, quite unable to form any words. When one walks out of their study, the last thing they expect to see is two teenage boys dueling with one another, let alone with swords. They were sweaty and Tonks could only imagine how long they had been going at it. They were slashing, lunging, banging and parrying at each other with a skill she hadn't imagined either of them to possess. Tonks anxiety was instantly at its high peak; Ron and Draco with swords was not something you considered to be a safe pastime. She stepped forward, ready to break them up by any means necessary… when she stopped and watched them.

"Ha!' cried Draco, shoving Ron back against the railing. He ran forward and brought his sword down in one quick movement, but Ron blocked just in time. Draco leant into Ron's face and snarled. 'Vengeance is mine! Stand down, unworthy adversary!"

"Vengeance is _yours_?' laughed Ron. He shoved Draco back and the two of them began to circle each other. 'What do you have to be vengeful for?"

Draco paused. "I'm a teenager, I'm vengeful about everything."

Ron rolled his eyes and attacked him again. Lunge, parry, parry, slash, twist and slash again, and although Draco blocked every attack Ron pressed him up against the wall just as Draco had cornered him moments before and laughed in victory.

"Surrender,' snarled Ron.

Draco scoffed. "Weasley, please! I am a Malfoy! I do not know the meaning of the word "surrender"! Well, I mean, I _know_ it, I'm not dumb... just not in this context…"

Ron snorted, and Draco shoved him back again, their swords sliding off one another with another loud 'shhhhhiiing'. They paused only for a minute before attacking each other again.

Now over the initial shock, Tonks continued to watch in interest. They were attacking each other vehemently, with determination and a pent-up energy from not being able to belt the living daylights out of each other since their first day together, and after getting over the initial shock of what she was seeing Tonks realized that they weren't actually vicious or excessively violent… they were _playing_. Their swords clanged together like church bells going off at midday, but they parried and slashed without, Tonks noticed, malicious intent but more sporting and fun. Tonks was presently surprised to see Draco not actually trying to hurt Ron, more testing his ability to defend himself. It was probably the first time she'd seen Draco interact with Ron as an equal and not an inferior.

"_Ow_!"

"Oh, er…'

Both boys stopped as Draco rubbed his upper arm where a clumsy maneuver on Ron's part had hit him. Ron was looking apprehensive, and looked to be only just holding back an apology.

Draco let out an indignant huff and twirled his sword. "Nobody mucks around with Draco Malfoy's body parts! Prepare for swift justice!"

"_What_,' snapped Tonks suddenly, causing both boys to look around in surprise, 'in the bloody hell are you two idiots _doing_?"

Ron and Draco blinked stupidly at her. Draco looked around at Ron, Ron looked at him arched his eyebrows and shrugged. Draco pursed his lips and looked back at his cousin.

"Nymphadora,' he said patronizingly, 'for an Auror you are so delightfully dimwitted. Can you not see we are having a battle to the death? A duel of honor?"

"No, I see two twits banging away at each other with lethal objects!' she said.

Ron shifted uncomfortably. "They're not live."

"Live… dead… unconscious….I don't care!' said Tonks. She stepped forward and snatched the sword out of Draco's hand.

"Hey!' he cried indignantly.

"Where did you get this?' she demanded.

Draco puffed his chest out. "I made it."

"You made it," echoed Tonks flatly.

"He transfigured a knife from the kitchen,' said Ron.

Tonks looked at Draco and frowned. Draco, who had been beaming with pride suddenly deflated as if someone had stuck a pin in his chest.

"Ron, excuse us please,' said Tonks, 'I'd like to have a word with my cousin."

Ron nodded, holding back a flinch. It was suddenly odd to be reminded that they were actually related.

Draco watched Ron go with a smirk. "You're lucky she intervened, Weasley, lest you be chopped Flubberworm by now!"

Ron looked over her shoulder just as he turned the corner and jabbed the sword upward in an emphasized gesture of flipping him the bird.

Draco chuckled to himself and turned back to Tonks.

Tonks squared her jaw irritably.

Draco cleared his throat. "I'm sensing displeasure from you, Nymphadora."

"_Don't call me_ – …' she stopped mid-yell and sighed. 'Follow me you little twit."

Apprehensively, he did so. Following her back into the study while she was irritable, holding a sword and where there were no witnesses didn't exactly make him feel safe. Draco stayed close to the door in case he needed to make a quick escape.

Tonks said nothing straight away, just paced slowly in front of him and examined the sword carefully.

"Is this how you plan to gain my trust?' she asked. 'By banging away at Ron… with a _sword_, no less?"

"I wasn't going to hurt him,' said Draco. Then he flinched, repulsed at how true this statement actually was.

"That is not the point,' said Tonks irritably. 'I sent you downstairs to apologize to him, not to challenge him to a duel!"

"Well, I suppose we could have used our wands… oh, but wait…' he trailed off, giving her a look.

Tonks matched his look. "Your behavior is doing nothing to convince me, nor is the way you speak to me."

Draco glared. "Do not patronize me, Nymphadora, I'm not a child and I do not need to be spoken to as such."

"Then stop acting like a child,' retorted Tonks. She raised the sword and considered it thoughtfully. 'Did you _really_ transfigure this from a kitchen knife?"

Draco nodded.

"Intentionally?"

"After a fashion."

Tonks pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. She frowned pensively and handed him the sword. "Can you change it back?"

Draco blinked and looked down at the sword. He looked back at her; she was just watching him patiently, like someone studying an animal to see how they would react to new and unfamiliar stimuli. She was off-putting, but he decided he'd rather cut his bollocks off than show weakness or insecurity in front of her. He held the hilt of the sword tightly in his hand, the blade pointing downward, and concentrated. _Shrink_, he commanded silently, _shrink… come on you blasted piece of metal, shrink_… his grey eyes narrowed in frustration. _Reducio… Reducio… REDUCIO…_

The sword didn't move.

"It's alright, Draco,' said Tonks softly.

"I can do it,' he snapped defensively, as if she had reprimanded him.

"I never said you couldn't,' said Tonks, 'wandless magic is very hard to control, that's why we have our wands. It concentrates the power for us. Raw magic is just… well, raw."

"Potter can do it,' he spat, stabbing the floor with the sword irritably.

"But not always,' said Tonks.

Draco glared at her. "Anything Potter can do, I can do better. You watch."

Tonks sighed. "Draco…"

But that was as far as she got before she let out a yelp, jumped and reached into the back pocket of her jeans. She pulled out her talisman; it was vibrating and the gem was pulsating blue.

"Code blue, I have to go,' she said quickly, grabbing her cloak from over the back of the desk chair.

"What's a code blue?' asked Draco quickly, all irritation forgotten in light of her panic. 'Is it serious?"

"Yes, but not very serious."

"What's happening?"

"I don't know. Out of the way, will you? I have to meet Kingsley and Dawlish… "

"Nymphadora, it's the middle of the night! And you're just going to go haring off into a dangerous situation you know nothing about?"

"Yes."

"That's idiotic!"

"That's my _job_, Draco,' said Tonks, stopping her frantics to give him a look. Draco, who had been following her closely, almost fell back as she whirled on him, bumping into his chest. 'Not just as an Order member, but as an Auror too. Or did you forget that I am an Auror?"

Draco pursed his lips.

Tonks rolled her eyes. "I don't have time for this. Go find Ron and give him a proper apology, will you?"

"When will you be back?"

"I don't know."

"Tonight?"

"I don't _know_, Draco!"

"Will you be home…' he started, but she disappeared with a loud 'crack'. He sighed and looked at the floor. '….at all."

He pulled the sword out of the tiny groove he had made in the floorboards and concentrated on it again. _Let's try this again, shall we?_ He thought threateningly at the weapon. _I will not be outdone by a sloppy, irrational, emotionally-charged Gryffindor. Now shrink. Shrink you idiotic heathen!_

The sword did nothing.

Draco sighed and tossed it onto the floor with a loud clang. Obviously he wasn't in the right frame of mind to this sort of thing right now. First he was forced to apologize to Weasley, then he had to get reprimanded in front of him by his own cousin who was almost a head smaller than him, then she had rushed off without even a good-bye to Merlin-knows where and now he couldn't perform wandless magic at will. Things couldn't really get any worse.

"Draco? Have you seen Dora?'

He rolled his eyes. "Not only is life a bitch, it has puppies."

"Sorry?"

Draco didn't even look around at Remus, just walked around and sank into the chair behind the desk with a childish flop. "She was called away suddenly."

Remus stepped over the sword. "When?"

"Just now,' said Draco. He looked up at his old Professor. 'You mean you didn't know?"

"If I did do you think I would be looking for her?"

"I would have thought you would know,' said Draco, mildly surprised, 'I assumed you would go with her. Shacklebolt did."

"Kingsley is an Auror, Draco,' said Remus, 'I'm not. Dora does have work and a life outside of this Order."

Draco folded his arms over his chest. "So I was reminded."

Remus considered him for a long moment. He never really spent much time with Draco alone; Tonks was always there to be peacemaker or mediator between them as their dislike toward each other was rather obvious. It wasn't that Remus really disliked him as a person; he didn't know him well enough to pass judgment. He just didn't trust him. Besides, Draco was malicious and rude enough to him in the first place to make his dislike even more profound, distrust aside. Remus shifted uncomfortably as he watched Draco fiddle with Tonks's quill, elbow propped up on the table and chin resting in the heel of his hand. He didn't think he'd ever seen Draco so… well, he couldn't tell the emotion, as always, but he knew he hadn't seen Draco like this before.

He cleared his throat. "Er, Draco…"

"What is it now, Lupin?"

"Is, er… everything alright?"

Draco looked up, his grey eyes narrowed slightly. Remus instantly regretted opening his mouth. "Of course everything's alright. Everything wonderful, thank you for your concern."

Remus nodded and sat down at the desk. "Uh huh… then why do you look like your owl's just died?"

"I'm sitting here in cotton, how would you feel? Well, pretty flash, I bet, considering this was your jumper at one point… you uncultured twat…" he added in a mutter.

"Okay, we're going to be like that are we?" said Remus patronizingly. 'Has Harry said something to upset you?"

"Potter's mere existence upsets me. Feel free to rectify this problem at the soonest convenient time."

"Not Harry… understood…' said Remus, giving him a look. 'Is it me?"

"When _isn't_ it you?"

"Is it about Dora?"

Draco said nothing.

Remus blinked. No reaction apparently meant he had struck a nerve. "Did you have a fight?"

"Perhaps."

"Did she say anything to you before she left that you didn't like?"

"Lupin, just drop the subject."

Remus frowned, a thought accruing to him. "Are you… _worried_ about her?"

Draco's jaw tightened.

"Draco… while Dora isn't the most graceful Ballerina in Swan Lake, she is a very skilled and capable Auror,' said Remus softly, 'not to mention a highly respected member of the Order of the Phoenix. She'll be fine, you'll see."

"Of course she will,' said Draco curtly, 'she'll come home in a few hours all chipper just to spite me – you watch."

Remus smiled and got to his feet. "Glad to see you have such a positive outlook, Draco."

Draco glared at Remus's back as he left the room, shutting the door behind him. He stared at the door for a long moment, before the tight muscles in his face began to relax and his glare melted away. He let out a breath slowly through his nose and looked down at the quill in his hand. It was old, yet the tip was still sharp. He imagined Tonks sitting in her common room writing a Transfiguration essay without a care in the world.

He looked at the clock on the wall. Ten to twelve. Definitely time for bed.

---------------

Hermione walked up the stairs with a practiced ease to the second floor, her eyes never leaving the decorated pages of the pamphlets she was reading. The history on the Moors was very interesting and the more she read the more confident she felt about the possibility of the final Horcrux being there. The sheer size of the moors was massive and if Voldemort had buried it then it could have been anywhere, perhaps hundreds of miles under ground… but she still retained a remnant of optimism. They had had no luck for months, and any lead was enough to spark a flame of determination within her again.

She rubbed her eyes and rolled her shoulders, trying to banish the ache. She was tired and felt as though she hadn't slept in weeks. She was so tired she seemed to have done a complete one eighty and re-energized herself again. She was over tired and she couldn't relax now that they actually had something to go on. Harry was depending on her to get this done quickly and get it done right, she would be damned if she was going to let him down.

If she felt tired, she could only imagine how Harry felt. Every time she saw him lately he looked as if he were sleep-walking around, his feet dragging. She knew he hadn't had a good night sleep in months and she so desperately wanted to help him, but what could she do short of tie him to his bed and force Dreamless Sleep Potion down his throat? He was frustrating and stubborn and wouldn't ask for help where it really mattered. Hermione knew what he was doing by making her read and research. He was pushing her away; making her feel as though she were contributing when really she was sitting at home keeping out of the way. Well, she wasn't some foolish school girl and she knew when someone was trying to distract her and as soon as she could she was going to give Harry a piece of her mind. She wasn't there just to read books for him; she was there to fight with him. She had a wand, and she was the smartest witch Hogwarts had seen in decades, and if Harry didn't pull his head out of his arse soon she was going to show him just how powerful she was. She didn't care if he was Harry Potter, savior of the Wizarding World… if he continued to treat her this way she would be giving him a not-so-subtle piece of her mind.

But first, she was going to research for him.

She ran a hand through her hair and turned another corner. All this searching wasn't going to be much good unless they could find out what the Horcrux actually was. Of course, their first thought had been the sword, but as Dumbledore had discredited this idea so too did they all. Remus had suggested perhaps an old trinket; Lily had suggested something in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Ron had suggested an old cat of Gryffindor's to which he fed the Elixir of Life in its milk that Voldemort had adopted and now the cat and Nagini were bestest of friends at their evil lair.

Hermione smiled at the thought of Ron. His suggestion alone had had everyone in stitches for a good while afterward. It was one of the few times they had all had a chance to laugh, really laugh, and Hermione beamed with pride that, once again, it was Ron that could make it happen. He always seemed to have an air of hope and light about him, even in the most depression of situations. Like all the Weasleys, people seemed to gravitate toward him in hope that they would be infected by his light-heartedness and not be so tired or down anymore. Not that he was always sunshine and daisies, he did have his moments of sadness and despair and sometimes even, scarily enough, rather violent anger… but for the most part he was what kept people smiling, especially herself. If she was tired, he would stroke her hair and hum soothing words in her ear, if she was energized he would bounce off her, if she was angry he would fire up with her and let her vent, if she was needy he would open his arms up to her and let her escape somewhere she could forget about everything even for just a few moments. Her smile fell as she thought about how much time they had not been spending together lately.

They were both so busy lately with thinking about Horcruxes and battling Death Eaters and worrying about Harry that they barely seemed to get a minute alone together. She couldn't remember the last time she'd kissed him. _Really_ kissed him. That slow, lazy kiss you would steal when you had all the time in the world. Hermione had gone years without kissing him, and that had been hard enough when sometimes it had been all she had been able to think about. But now she really knew what she was missing it made it that much harder. She vaguely considered just grabbing him, dragging him into a random room and snogging the life out of him. But that was the sort of thing hormonal, sex-driven girls with short skirts and tight tops did, and being that she was not one of the girls, she pushed the reckless impulse aside.

She was headed toward the attic now. She had put some of the older books up there to clear away the clutter and had need of it once again. The attic wasn't really her favorite place in the house, it was still filthy and the only place not to have experienced the whirlwind cleaning frenzy called Molly Weasley, but Hermione was going raving mad sitting in the living room alone and needed to stretch her legs. She walked up another hallway and turned a corner.

And almost tripped over Harry.

"Oh, _heavens_!' gasped Hermione, catching her balance and placing a hand over her chest. 'Harry, for goodness sake, you scared the _life_ out of me!"

Harry just hugged his knees, looking up at Hermione from where he sat in the middle of the staircase.

Hermione, putting her heart back in her chest, pursed her lips and frowned at him. "What are you doing sitting there?"

"Just thinking."

"On the _stairs_?"

Harry shrugged.

Hermione sighed. "Harry, it's the middle of the night. Go get some rest. You shouldn't be up at this hour."

"Hypocrite,' he smirked.

"I'm actually doing something productive with my time,' said Hermione, sitting down next to him, 'not blocking the stairs like a boulder."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and winced. His shoulders ached and his back felt as though he'd been hunched over all day which, he thought in retrospect, he probably had. He needed to go lie down on his stomach and straighten himself out, literally. But if he lay down he knew he'd fall asleep, and he didn't want to be plagued by dreams just yet.

Hermione folded up the pamphlets in her hands as he rubbed his scar. "Do you want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"Oh, you mean aside from a mad ravenous lunatic trying to kill me and everyone I love?"

"Harry, I'm being serious."

Harry rolled his shoulders. What was bothering him? What _wasn't_ bothering him? He hadn't slept in days, he was still reeling from his encounter with Dumbledore, the knowledge that Dumbledore had actually demanded Snape kill him had thrown every perception he had conceived over the past few months completely out the window and he still had not told any of them about it, his scar constantly throbbed, his mind was tingling more and more as if someone were trying to enter it, he was terrified he would slip up and Voldemort would find out not only about the Horcruxes but about Lily being alive, he didn't have the faintest clue what the last Horcrux could be and time was running out.

He pursed his lips and forced a smile. "I'm fine."

"Do you take me for an idiot?' said Hermione.

"No, but can I take you for some ice-cream? I've having the worst cravings…"

"Anyone can see you're falling to pieces, Harry,' said Hermione sternly.

Harry narrowed his eyes and gave her a look so dark and determined she leant back slightly away from him.

"I'm _fine_." He repeated flatly.

Hermione looked like she wanted to say something else but Harry looked away from her and at the wall beside him, suddenly fascinated in the wallpaper. Hermione bit her lip, irritated. She wanted to take that moment to give him a good piece of her mind, but he really looked too tired for now, so she reluctantly saved it until another day.

Harry fiddled with the gold locket around his neck. "How's the research going?"

"Well, it would go a lot better if I knew what I was looking for,' said Hermione, looking at the pamphlet irritably. 'If only we knew what the object _was_, then I could narrow down possible locations."

"If he's even buried it there,' said Harry gloomily.

"Yes, that too.'

Harry looked at her, taking a moment to admire the intense pensive expression on her face, as if this puzzle was driving her mad. "Have you considered that maybe we're wasting our time looking for it?"

Hermione whirled on him and her eyes flashed. "_Excuse me_?"

"No, I didn't… I didn't mean…' he flinched at the look she was giving him. 'I mean… maybe he didn't even make a Horcrux with something of Gryffindors."

"Why would he do that?" asked Hermione.

"Well, maybe he had the same trouble we're having,' said Harry softly, 'maybe there just isn't anything of Gryffindors but the sword left. Maybe he got desperate and decided to put that pattern to hell and use what he did have."

Hermione nodded. "It's a possibility. But if he did do that then the sixth Horcrux could be absolutely anything in the entire world."

Harry groaned. "That's a bleak possibility, Hermione."

"I don't think he would have though,' said Hermione, 'he's too methodical and, to an extent, too predictable. His obsession with Hogwarts and the Founders indicates that it would have to be something of Gryffindor."

Harry rubbed his arms. "What about Nagini?"

"His python? What about it?"

"Couldn't she be a Horcrux?"

Hermione scratched her chin softly with the corner of the pamphlet. "It is possible, I suppose. Unlikely, but possible."

"Why unlikely?' asked Harry. 'She's with him all the time. He's extremely protective of her, and all his Horcruxes have special meaning to him."

"Yes, but she's too fragile,' said Hermione. 'She could be killed at any given time, thus destroying the piece of Voldemort's soul attached to her and therefore destroying a Horcrux at the same time. He would have to make another one to replace it… if he even could. I doubt he would have much soul left. No, I don't think it would be Nagini. If he were going to take the risk and make a Horcrux out of a living being he would not perform the ritual with something so delicate."

She got to her feet and began to pace, a new thrill of determination re-energizing her.

"But if he _did_ make the final Horcrux out of whatever he could, then yes, it could be anything anywhere. But I don't think he would be that blasé about something so important – whatever it was it would have some sort of significance, like you said. I'll just have to broaden my research, maybe I could borrow that Pensieve Dumbledore left you Harry? That would certainly help, if I could get into his history more… see things for myself…' she was pacing back and forth, her mind in a whirl, 'we need to narrow this list down, and we need to find out other places he might have hidden it, places he's been before, perhaps his fathers old house if he's not already living there now which you suggested he might be and I too think is the most logical place. Harry, you might have had a dream or a vision and would know about it. Do you think there's a chance that maybe you could keep a dream diary? Something in them might give us a lead on the whereabouts and identity of this last Horcrux. Harry? _Harry_?"

Hermione looked at Harry and felt irritated again. Harry was staring off into space, a calm and thoughtful expression on his face and seemingly not hearing a word she was saying.

She frowned and put her hands on her hips. "Harry, are you even listening to me?"

"I know what the last Horcrux is,' he said.

Hermione blinked. "You… what?"

"I know what it is."

"Oh, you do, do you? Just like that?"

"Yeah."

"What is it then?"

"It's me."

Hermione was sure she had misheard him. She let out a short laugh and frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry looked up at her finally. "It's me. I'm the last Horcrux."

It was a good minute before Hermione could actually form words. She opened and closed her mouth several times, frowning, shaking her head and smiling in disbelief. Harry just looked at her, completely calm and patient, his fingers fiddling with the gold locket delicately.

Finally Hermione shook her head and waved a hand. "No. Absolutely not. It's impossible."

"No it isn't, its entirely possible,' said Harry. 'It makes perfect sense. I'm the Horcrux."

"Harry, the man has been trying to kill you for years!' snapped Hermione, her cheeks flushed pink. 'Why on earth would be bother to make you into a Horcrux if he was just going to kill you again?"

"Well, at the time he didn't think I'd even survive,' said Harry, 'he thought he'd kill me and be done with it, and he could go on and rule over everything without me there to get in the way. But he made a mistake, not the only one he made that night, and he probably realizes that it would be better to kill me and sacrifice one piece of his soul than have me around and get to him and his other Horcruxes first."

Hermione shook her head stubbornly. "No, Harry, the entire idea is completely absurd."

"No, it isn't!' he laughed, getting to his feet. 'Think about it! Who would suspect it was me? And you yourself said that while making a Horcrux out of a living being is risky it is possible!"

"Harry, stop…' snapped Hermione, backing away. But Harry wasn't listening anymore.

"It's the perfect plan!' he said, almost beamed. 'Making me one ensures the ultimate insurance policy. He probably knew Dumbledore would figure it out in the end, but that he would never sacrifice me because he cared about me too much…"

"Harry, please…"

'… and even if I _did_ kill him in the end, I'd still be around for his soul to linger so one of his Death Eaters could perform the same ritual they used in the Graveyard to bring him back again!'

"No, _Harry_…"

"It even falls into the pattern of his obsession with the Founders! Something of Gryffindors! My Mum _and_ Dad were in Gryffindor, _and_ we lived in Godric's Hollow! It all fits!"

"Harry!"

"It certainly explains why we have this connection! Our souls are bonded together! It's why we can feel each other! Why I can speak Parseltongue!"

"_Harry_!"

"Dumbledore said he didn't hear all of the prophecy, maybe instead of hearing 'n_o one can live while the other survives_', he only heard '_one can live while the other survives'_, and that way he decided to make me a Horcrux! Or maybe…"

"Harry, _STOP_!"

Harry stopped his excited ramble and looked at Hermione, her harsh desperate roar echoing in his ears. Her eyes were brimming with tears and her hands were balled into frustrated fists at her side, the pamphlet scrunched in her left. His excited smile fell instantly.

He stepped forward and grabbed her by the arms. "Don't you see what this means?"

"Don't say it,' she sobbed angrily, 'don't you _dare_ say it."

"For him to die, I have to…"

"I said _DON'T_!' she snarled, pushing him away.

Harry stumbled and almost fell back on his behind from the force of her shove. He looked at her with wide eyes as she glared at him, tears now falling down her cheek. She looked as though someone had just sucker-punched her in the gut.

She fisted her hair in her hands and took shallow breaths, pacing in front of him. She was breathing heavily through her nose, as if struggling for air until she finally stopped in front of him and threw her hands up in a hopeless gesture.

"So that it, then, is it?' she demanded. 'You're just going to sit there and expect me to support you in this ludicrous assumption? You're just going to… _give up_?"

"It isn't giving up,' he said softly.

"Yes it _IS_ giving up!' she shouted, jabbing a finger at him. 'It's a cop-out, Harry, and I thought you for less of a coward!"

"Hermione…"

"_No_! You may be ready to die, but I'm not!' she snapped. 'Mark my words, Harry James Potter… your death will be over my dead body!"

And with that, she threw one last glare at him and ran off.

Harry stood still on the spot for a few long few minutes, reeling. He stared at the space Hermione had just occupied, his mind in a whirl and his heart racing. He wanted to run after her. He didn't truly understand why she was so upset. He had just saved her a mountain of research, hadn't he? Now they didn't have to go trudging through moors or risking their lives on recovery missions. Maybe he should go after her. She looked a little upset…

"_Argh_!"

Harry cried out and clapped both hands over his scar. It was burning and his eyes were watering from the pain. He bent over and leant against the wall, taking in slow deep breaths as he tried to relax, but the pain only seemed to intensify. He clenched his jaw and muffled cries of pain with his teeth; every muscle in his body was tense and beginning to ache. The pain flared up and he cried out again, his head snapping back and his eyes clamping shut. His brow was sweaty, and it felt as though someone were trying to pull his scar apart with tiny little fishing hooks…

And then it was gone.

Harry's eyes flew open; his knees finally went under him and he sat back down on the stairs heavily. He head rolled back and he gulped down air. He was flinching from aftershocks of the pain and he felt as though he'd just spent a minute under the Cruciatus Curse. His skin tingled, his eyes burned and his scar throbbed. He rubbed his scar, his glasses slipping down his nose from the sheen of sweat that covered his face. He felt completely exhausted, as if he'd just swum the Channel twice in a consecutive run. He wanted to sleep. He needed to sleep. His body and mind needed solace; a break. He couldn't fight it anymore. Maybe it would be alright… just a few minutes…

Slow, like a zombie, Harry pulled himself shakily to his feet and headed off down the hallway. His shoes felt like they were filled with lead as he dragged them along, his hand running along the wall beside him to keep him going in the right direction. He felt like he'd been walking for hours, but it was only a few minutes until he finally stumbled into Hermione's den. It was empty; she hadn't returned there like he had assumed she would. Her cauldrons were no longer bubbling but dormant, their flames extinguished for the night. He looked around for the vial he knew she had made for him despite his endless protests and when his eyes landed on her desk he was not disappointed.

Without a second thought, he stepped forward, grabbed the vial and trudged slowly back out of her den and up to his room. He almost tripped over the threshold; his bed had never looked so inviting or seductive. He collapsed onto it; he thought he could hear shouting somewhere downstairs but he ignored it. He un-corked the vial, threw his head back and downed the potion in one gulp. He lay down, not even bothering to take of his shoes and curled up into the fetal position. His mattress was soft and the covers were warm and the corner of his mouth upturned into a small smile.

He was asleep the second his head hit the pillow.

* * *

A/N – The next few chapters, unfortunately, will be a similar vibe to this. But I promise, it won't last. I worked it out the other day, and I think this fic will end up being around the sixty chapter mark! How do we all feel about that?

Please review!


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44!

* * *

"_Kneel, young Master Malfoy." _

_Draco fell to his knees, the action not entirely voluntary; one third obedience, one third the rough hand of his Uncle Rodolphus's hand on his shoulder pushing him down, and one third sheer terror. He kept his eyes on the hem of the robes of the tall wizard before him as a mark of respect, but felt it a tad unsanitary to crawl forward and kiss them like his Aunt seemed to like doing on a more frequently occurring basis and therefore stayed where he was. He bowed his head and stayed still. Draco knew standard protocol by now; his father had been preparing him for this moment since he was a toddler – he couldn't, however, manage to suppress a slight shiver. _

"_My Lord,' he said, surprised at how level his own voice sounded. _

_He felt a cold hand placed on the crown of his head, and then the hiss muttered into the dark room, "Rodolphus, leave us." _

_Draco felt the hand on his shoulder give him a short, subtle squeeze, and then the hand was gone with the sound of the door clicking shut following moments later… then silence. Draco breathed slowly through his long nose, trying to calm himself. This was the moment he had dreaded since he had first met the Dark Lord in person, since he had been given his assignment and had trust and the fate of his family placed in his hands. He was terrified. _

_Not that he was going to show it. _

_Without warning, long cold fingers thread through Draco's blonde locks; almost a loving gesture not unlike the way his mother used to convey. Draco tried not to flinch._

_Voldemort laughed softly. "So like your father. I remember the first day he knelt before me as you do now as if it were only yesterday. He was so enthusiastic he could barely stay still." _

_Draco said nothing, just continued to stare at the floor. _

"_I also remember the _last_ day he knelt before me. Most apologetic, he was. I'm regretful that he caught me in a not-so-merciful mood. Poor old Lucius always did seem to have such horrid timing." _

_Still, Draco was silent. _

_Voldemort slipped his hand away, sat himself down in his chair and admired Draco knelt before him with a cold smirk. "You too are different, Master Malfoy. Time has matured you… it has calmed you… you, like your father, were a bundle of excitement the first day you knelt where you kneel now. And twelve months later you return to me, a man who has accomplished much. Rise." _

_Draco got to his feet and looked the Dark Lord in the eye. He was repulsive and, again, he had to repress a shiver. Voldemort only stared at him in amusement, and if Draco were honest with himself he would have suspected a slight twinkle in the Dark Lord's eye, not unlike someone else he once knew. _

"_Let us not dawdle around the matter at hand, Draco. You were successful in the mission I set you, yes? There is no need to answer, I have seen the evidence in every newspaper and heard it from many lips. Albus Dumbledore is dead and it is by your hand." _

_Draco clenched his jaw. "Yes, my Lord. It was done as you asked." _

"_Was it?" _

_Draco blinked. "My Lord, I don't…" _

"_I have been told by Amycus that you had assistance that night upon the Astronomy Tower of Hogwarts." _

"_No, I mean yes, but, my Lord…" _

"_That when my Death Eaters found you with Dumbledore you hesitated,' said Voldemort irritably, ignoring Draco's pleas. 'That you had been up there for several minutes and yet had not already killed the old wizard like you were instructed." _

"_Yes, but my Lord…" _

"_And,' said Voldemort loudly, his hiss shrill with anger now, 'that as a result of your hesitation Severus had to do the job I specifically commanded that you and no other were to employ!" _

_Draco flinched. Voldemort was on his feet now, his red eyes blazing. He resisted the urge to turn and run for his life, instead bowed his head again, not trusting himself to look into Voldemort's anger-contorted face any longer. _

"_My Lord, no-one feels more shame that I in regards to these events,' said Draco hastily. _

"_Indeed,' sneered Voldemort, sitting himself down again. _

_Draco straightened up and looked at Voldemort again. He couldn't imagine how Potter saw this face, these _eyes_, over and over in his dreams and still managed to retain any shred of sanity – if you could really call Potter's berserk lifestyle 'sane'. Draco had only met Voldemort once in person in his entire life and he was already terrified. Maybe that had something to do with Voldemort's fury and the fact that Draco had no way to escape impending doom… he wasn't quite sure… _

_Voldemort pursed his thin lips. "You fail me, and yet you return. Something not many would dare to do. Some might call you exceedingly foolish, young Draco." _

"_Some may call me exceedingly brave,' said Draco, 'personally I prefer the latter." _

"_A sharp wit,' said Voldemort, 'another Malfoy trait. No doubt what has let your family survive the Ministry's grip the past decade whilst in my absence." _

_Draco shrugged. "Forty million Galleons didn't hurt either." _

_Voldemort smirked, and Draco felt instantly uneasy once more. "Why are you back with us, Draco? And why now?" _

"_I want only your forgiveness, my Lord,' said Draco, 'it is all I have ever wanted. Forgive me, my Lord, I beg of you…" _

"_You know Lord Voldemort does not hand out forgiveness lightly." _

"_I do, my Lord." _

"_And you know that you, in light of your fantastic failure, do not deserve an ounce of it." _

_Draco flinched. "Ye-… yes, my Lord." _

_Voldemort pinched his chin with his thumb and forefinger as he gazed at Draco thoughtfully. He crossed one leg over the other and sat back in his chair as if he were enjoying a weekend game of Quidditch. Draco wanted to run from the room, but his feet were rooted to the spot. He didn't dare leave until he had permission; he would be dead before he reached the door even if he tried. _

"_Do you feel you have learned your lesson, Draco?" _

"_Yes, my Lord, yes…' implored Draco. _

"_You will have to prove it," _

"_Yes, my Lord, anything." _

_Voldemort smiled and looked at the door. "You may bring her in now." _

_The double doors behind Draco banged open, and he looked around to see two large hooded Death Eaters enter, their faces concealed behind their white masks dragging a smaller woman into the room between them. She was bound and gagged and her pale blue eyes were streaming with tears. She was terrified, and Draco watched her be thrown to the floor at Voldemort's feet with horror. _

"_Ah, Narcissa,' sighed Voldemort conversationally, getting to his feet, 'so glad you could join us. Look who has finally come home." _

_Draco was beyond mortified. His mother looked up at him with desperation, her eyes pleading with him. Pleading to help her, pleading to run for his life and same himself… he couldn't tell. Her face held one small purple bruise just below her eye and her hands were tired behind her back with invisible ropes. Instantly he knelt down beside her, taking her shoulders – she was shaking uncontrollably. _

"_Mother,' he whispered, smoothing her hair out of her face, 'what have they done to you?_

"_Such a touching reunion,' said Voldemort. _

"_What is this?' demanded Draco, glaring up at Voldemort's smirk. _

"_Your poor mother, Draco, you've had her so worried these past few months,' said Voldemort, his mouth twisted into a cruel smile, 'it really has been the most disgusting display…" _

"_Why?' demanded Draco furiously. 'She has nothing to do with this!"_

_Voldemort said nothing, just smiled at Draco. _

_Draco flared up, not caring what happened to him now. "This is between you and me! You want to punish someone, punish me. I deserve it. Just let her go." _

"_Oh, I don't think so,' said Voldemort simply. 'You knew the consequences of your failure, Draco. Your family will be punished, and you will watch, knowing that it was all because of you."_

"_NO!" _

_Draco lunged for Voldemort, but had only just managed to get to his feet before, with merely a flick of a wand, he was thrown back across the room and slammed hard into the wall. Draco slumped to the floor and rolled over onto his stomach with a groan of pain. He could hear his mothers muffled screams as he tried to pick himself up from the floor. _

"_Tut tut,' sighed Voldemort, getting to his feet. He slowly made his way over, stepping over Narcissa as if she were nothing but a curled up bug on the floor. 'Such a temper." _

_Voldemort flicked his wand upward lazily and Draco levitated into the air, hanging at an odd angle as if he were being held up by a hook. He wriggled and fought, trying to break free, but then there was an all consuming pain stabbing at him from every angle and he could do nothing but cry out in agony. He felt as though his skin were being pulled tightly from his bones, every nerve-ending on fire, his eyes watered and stung and he wanted to just die to spare himself from the pain… but after a few moments it was over and he was left still hanging in mid-air, gasping for breath and shaking. He groaned and looked over at this mother again. She could do nothing but stare at him, her blue eyes wide with horror and helplessness. He tried to move, tried to break free of this spell, but his body ached and he could do nothing but wriggle the tiniest amount. _

_Voldemort walked right up to him and ran the tip of his wand down Draco's face in an almost loving caress. "You are not beyond my wrath, Master Malfoy. And despite your claims I do not believe you have learnt anything from your failure. Allow me to explain the seriousness of your situation in a way you will understand." _

_With one last cruel smirk, Voldemort turned around and pointed his wand down at Narcissa. Draco flinched with alarm and tried to move, but he didn't have the energy. And in a softly spoken spell and a flash of green light it was over, and Narcissa Malfoy lay dead on the floor, eyes still wide open and locked right on Draco. _

"_NO!' he cried. _

_Voldemort smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek. "Here endeth the lesson." _

"_NO!' screamed Draco, wriggling against his binds as the tip of Voldemort's wand was aimed between his eyes. 'NO! MOTHER! MOTHER!!" _

"MUM NO!'

Draco sat bolt upright in bed, breathing hard with panic. He looked around the dark room frantically, expecting to see Voldemort or Death Eaters or his mother's body on the floor, but all he found was the interior of his bedroom. The light from the streetlamps outside was sneaking in through the gap in his curtains, casting a soft glow into the room. He ran a hand through his hair, his upper body and face slick with sweat. He looked down; his bed covers were pooled in his lap and his bare chest was shining with perspiration. He ran a hand over the scar that was drawn across his chest, from his collar bone down to the middle of his right side, and tried to calm himself down.

_Just a dream_, he repeated to himself, _just a dream… you're fine… you're safe… mother's safe… The Dark Lord isn't here… you're fine… just a dream… _

He turned over, laid back down on his stomach and let his arm droop over the side of the bed, trying to doze off again. It wasn't the first time he'd had a dream like that, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. His mother's safety had been one of his biggest worries since he had seen her months ago at Christmas. He couldn't contact her in any way to see how she was doing, and he didn't dare ask Tonks if she could arrange another meeting for them like she had, somehow, managed to do last time. Every time the Order came back from a battle he would always lurk, his ear pricked up, listening to see if they mentioned anything about her but they never did; he was both relieved and concerned about this. Was she being held prisoner like he feared? Or was she still an active member of the Death Eater circle and was just so talented and wonderful that she never got caught? Draco's only comfort was in hoping that it was the latter.

He breathed slowly through parted lips and looked at his hand hanging over the side of the bed. He wished someone would offer _him_ Dreamless Sleep potion so he could have some peace for just one night. He would make it himself if only Harry would let him anywhere near Hermione's study and at her potion ingredients. But no, Harry still didn't trust him, and since he was violently determined not to talk to Harry about making a Dreamless Sleep Potion and why he needed it, Draco resolved that he would just have to suck it up and take it like a man. Besides, if Harry could handle nightmares, then so could he.

Draco closed his eyes, willing himself to relax, but his body ached as though he really had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse. He let go of his clenched muscles and took slow, deep breaths, but all he could see in his minds eye was his mother tied up on the floor, her eyes with fear, a green light enveloping her…

He let out a huff of impatience and sat up again, rubbing his eyes. He wasn't going to get any sleep now, at least not for a while. He needed something to take his mind off his dreams. He smiled, vaguely considering going into Ron's bedroom and tipping a large bucket of cold water on him, but he rather liked having a head attached to his body, so with a new plan in mind, he threw his covers off him, put on a shirt and headed downstairs.

The house was quiet. Everyone was either dead to the world or out, and Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd ever heard silence like this… especially in this house. There was always something going on, or there was always somebody about making a ruckus; but neither was happening tonight apparently, and Draco was glad for the change. He went straight into the living room, and in a fluid movement of distraction he held his hand out as he passed one of the coffee tables, a book sailed into his hand and he sat down heavily on the couch. He flipped it open to a random page and began reading.

'…_When shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurlyburly's done, when the battle's lost and won_… what in Merlin's name…' Draco marked the page with his finger and looked at the title, 'Macbeth?' he flicked through a few more pages and picked out another quote, '…_The Weird Sisters, hand in hand, posters of the sea and land, thus do go about, about_…' The Weird Sisters? He loved that band! Was this some sort of biography? He flipped back to the start and began reading.

A few pages in and Draco knew that this book had nothing to do with his favorite band, but rather some sort of ancient magic being used, and in full view of Muggles! What kind of book was this, promoting such scandalous actions? What idiotic Hufflepuff could have possibly have written this and gotten away with it? A few more pages in and Draco realized that this book had actually been written _by_ a Muggle who seemed to possess a disturbing accuracy as to how magical rituals were possibly performed once upon a time. Who was this William Shakespeare? Why had the Ministry not clamped down on him by now?

Deciding he couldn't really care less, Draco settled into the sofa and continued reading.

The book was a good distraction. It had magic and scandal and more of the things he liked; things he missed about being and Hogwarts and being the wonder boy of Slytherin. He could just imagine the reaction he would get from his fellow housemates if they discovered him, Draco Malfoy, reading Muggle literature, let alone actually enjoying it. Oh Merlin, what would his _parents_ say? Draco couldn't help but smile as he imagined their faces.

And then he frowned. What did he think of _himself_, reading and very much enjoying Muggle literature? What on earth was happening to him?

BANG.

Draco jumped and looked up in alarm. Images of his dream came flooding back to him, and instinctively he reached for a wand that wasn't there. Frustrated and nervous, he put the book aside and slowly began to rise to his feet to see what the noise was when someone stumbled into the room, almost tripping over the rug in a fit of giggles.

Draco squinted; the hair was unmistakable, even in the dim light. "_Granger_?"

Hermione looked up at him blankly for a moment, then smiled dopily and put a finger to her lips. "Shhh! You'll wake everyone up!"

"Yeah, because your thundering about will sing them to…' he stopped and frowned. She looked odd. "Granger, are you troubled? Or is that your lazy eye?"

"Ha! You always say the funniest things, Malfoy!"

Draco's mouth dropped open. "Are you _drunk_?"

"I most certainly am not!' she giggled, staggering over and clapping a hand over his mouth. 'Now shut up before you blow our cover you blabbering idiot, we're in _hiding_!"

She patted his cheek roughly and Draco watched, amazed, as she brushed past him clumsily and began walking around the room in a daze. Now that she was more in the light he could see the bottle of Firewhiskey clutched in her hand, almost completely empty. Her eyes were blurry and hazy and her cheeks were flushed and she was, by all accounts, completely out of her mind drunk.

Draco watched her cautiously. "Er, Granger, maybe you should sit down…"

"I don't _need_ to sit down, _thank you_, Mister Malfoy,' said Hermione firmly in a tone so like McGonagall Draco feared she would try to take house points. She held up the bottle of Firewhiskey and giggled. 'Alcohol is _good_."

"Did you drink that entire bottle by yourself?"

"So wha' if I did?' she slurred. She got right in his face and gave him a very comical interrogating look. '_Intimidated_?"

Draco winced and stepped away. "You definitely smell like you have."

Hermione blinked and stared at him for a long moment, before laughing and pointing at him. "You … whoa, head-spin…"

"Whoa, look out…"

Draco caught Hermione as she stumbled forward into him. She giggled and collapsed against him, a dead weight. Draco groaned and tried to keep her on her feet, very aware of how much he was touching her.

She laughed again and took a long swig of whiskey. "You've got hair up your nose!"

"Okay, that's it, sit down."

Draco sat her down heavily on the couch, glad to be rid of her weight. She didn't protest, simply looked up at him with a pout as if he were some sort of party pooper. She slouched into the couch and nursed the bottle in her lap as Draco stood over her, his hands on his hips.

Hermione looked up at him with bleary eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Gee, I can't imagine why.' He sighed sarcastically. 'Why aren't you in bed?"

"Well, why aren't _you_?"

Draco pursed his lips and looked at the floor. "I couldn't sleep."

"Did you have a bad dream?"

"Something like that."

Hermione stared up at him, her head tilted back and her brow knotted in the tiniest of frowns, as if she were concerned about him. Draco shifted uncomfortably under her stare; despite her intoxication, she could be rather intimidating. He didn't envy Harry and Ron having to be subjected to her gazes over the past seven years at all.

Draco cleared his throat. "Now see here, Granger, I think you've had just about enough. So… you just give me that bottle and, er… run along off to bed."

"No,' said Hermione, cuddling the bottle to her chest, 'this is mine! Go find your own!"

"Shhh!' hissed Draco, flapping his hands. 'Honestly! Do you want to wake everyone up?"

Hermione said nothing, just glared at him and had another drink.

Draco sighed. He just couldn't accept the idea that Hermione Granger, teacher's pet and most likely Head Girl had she stayed at school, was actually drunk, stumbling around and by all accounts being a complete idiot. Hermione was always the only one out of her ridiculous trio that seemed to have anything resembling a brain between her ears, and Draco was insulted that she wasn't using it now. He frowned at her; she was blowing a strand of hair that had fallen over her face up in the air, going cross-eyed as she watched it flop up and down. This wasn't really his idea of fun, babysitting a drunk Gryffindor, and Hermione at that… but he couldn't really leave her alone, so he paced in front of her slowly, hoping she would soon pass out.

"What were you thinking, Granger?' he asked. 'Getting drunk… _honestly_! And at a time like this!"

"What do you care?' she mumbled, gazing thoughtfully into the bottle. 'You don't care about me. Nobody cares about me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh brilliant, you're an _emotional_ drunk. Well, I suppose I never thought anything more of you. I never really took you for the Angry-drunk type nor the Horny-drunk type… and I can't believe I just said that about you to your face…"

Hermione giggled. "You know, Draco, when I feel like a raving ding-dong I find sometimes a nice cup of Chamomile tea…"

"I don't need any sodding Chamomile tea,' he said, 'but I suspect you will in the morning. That and a good hang-over potion."

"Y'know how to make a potion for hang-ove's?' slurred Hermione, looking very surprised.

Draco smiled. "Blaise taught me."

Hermione scoffed and waved her arm around, the brown liquid flapping around in the bottle wildly. "Zabini couldn't even brew a Serenity Elixir if his life depended on it!"

Draco snorted and sat down beside her. "No, that's quite true come to think of it. But he _could_ brew up the most God-like hang-over potion the world has ever seen. I think his fifth stepfather taught him how. Or was it is sixth? I don't know,' he shrugged picking up his book again and flicking through it, 'I can't keep up."

Deciding this topic wasn't at all interesting, Hermione just had another drink. They quickly lulled into a surprisingly comfortable silence, and Draco quickly discovered that her intoxication was not high-maintenance. She seemed perfectly content to sit there and wallow in self pity over whatever her latest problem was, and he was perfectly content to let her.

And then he felt something picking at the collar of his shirt.

Draco quirked an eyebrow and looked at Hermione. She was leaning over, picking at the fraying material of his t-shirt with great interest. "Granger, you're in my space bubble."

"Aren't you going to ask me?" she asked, her breath heavy with the smell of whiskey.

"Ask you what?"

"What's the matter."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I really don't care."

"Oh, come on,' she giggled, patting his shoulder, 'I know you want to ask me! You want to know everything about everything that goes on in this… is that my book?"

Draco hastily slammed the book shut and threw it to the floor. "No."

Hermione didn't even notice him mistreating her books, just looked at him expectantly with half-closed eyes. Draco was suddenly aware of how close they were sitting; their hips were almost touching. He'd never really been in such close proximity to her before, normally afraid of getting germs of some sort. He looked at her, really looked at her, and noticed the small freckles on her nose. Her face was peering into his, almost too close, and he wondered why it was he didn't mind.

He rolled his eyes and looked away from her into the fire. "Alright, fine… what's the matter?"

"I don't wanna talk about it,' she huffed, sitting back and folding her arms over her chest.

"_What_? But you just said…"

"Don't criticize me!' she shouted.

"Okay! _Sheesh_!' said Draco hastily. He shook his head and folded his own arms. 'You're mentally insane, Granger, has anyone ever told you that? You need to see a good therapist, or hairdresser, or something."

Hermione said nothing, just had another drink.

Draco got to his feet and began to pace again. "Look, I'm not in the mood for you right now… or ever… so just go upstairs and talk to Weasley about whatever it is you're being hormonal about."

"He's sleep'n."

"Alright, how about Potter?"

"I don't want to talk to him!" shouted Hermione angrily.

Draco's eyes widened. "O-_kay_. I'm going to just take a wild stab in the dark and say that this,' he gestured to her and the bottle she was cradling, 'has something to do with Potter."

Hermione scowled. "He's an intellectually challenged, un-evolved Neanderthal."

"And not that I'm arguing in the least,' smiled Draco, looking awfully pleased, 'but why after all this time, are you only just now realizing what I've been saying all these years?"

"He's an insensitive prat,' muttered Hermione, staring off into space. 'He doesn't think!"

"That's because he doesn't have a brain,' said Draco, bouncing on his heels. 'He's brainless!"

Hermione took another drink and nodded. "Yes, he is! He's… he's a brainless buffoon, that's what he is!"

Draco laughed. "Granger, I never thought you and I would be on the same page. Let's celebrate this. Let's make snazzy badges stating '_I Hate Potter_' so the whole word will see them, and then they will want snazzy badges of their own and soon, it will be a world-wide phenomenon, and everyone will join in our snazzy, enthusiastic Potter hating."

Hermione frowned, blinking rapidly as though she had just looked into a very bright light. "I don't hate Harry."

Draco deflated. "What?"

"I don't,' she said earnestly. 'I love Harry more than anyone on this planet… well, except for Ron and my parents and Crookshanks, of course. He's my best friend. No, he's more than that. He's my brother, the brother I never had, and I would die for him without a moment's hesitation."

"Well, now, that's a silly thing to do,' said Draco frowning, 'what good would dying for him do if you're not here to live with him?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"No, I'd imagine not."

Hermione sat back and had another sip of her drink. "He's going to die, you know."

Draco blinked, taken back. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh come on, Malfoy, don't act stupid.' She snapped impatiently. 'You've dreamt of nothing else since Harry told you to sod off with your offer of friendship the first train ride to Hogwarts."

"Well, yes, but you…' he stuttered, completely at a loss, '… you're his friend, for Merlin's sake! You're meant to be positive, and make him feel better, and pull his head out of his arse when it's up there which, you have to admit, is practically all the time. You can't think like that. It's just… it's _wrong_."

Hermione just sat there, staring into space, not hearing him. "I've tried. I've tried so hard to keep him safe, to keep him sensible, to keep him sane… but it hasn't worked. It's never worked. Everything I do… it's never enough. I've tried helping him, but it's just not enough. There's nothing! No spell… no potion… no incantation… nothing. I can't help him.' She laughed and looked up at Draco dopily. 'He's going to die… and I can't do a thing about it."

And, to Draco's horror, she burst into tears.

She slumped forward, rested her elbows on her knees and put her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed, and the practically empty bottle of Firewhiskey fell through the gap between her legs to the floor with a dull clunk. Draco just looked at her awkwardly and tense, unable to think of a single thing to do to make her stop. He frowned slightly as she just cried her eyes out, hoping maybe she'd wear herself out, but she didn't. Her strong emotions plus the large amount of alcohol consumed has turned her into a complete mess.

Draco could think of only one thing to do.

He approached her slowly and carefully sat down beside her. He looked at her shaking shoulders and listened to her soft sobs and then, very hesitantly, he raised his hand and began to pat her on the back awkwardly.

Hermione's shoulders slowly stilled and her breathing became softer and more normal. She looked around at him, and Draco immediately took his hand back, his cheeks flushing pink.

She took slow, deep breaths and wiped her eyes. "I'm a failure."

"How do you figure?"

"I don't figure, I am,' she said sadly, sniffing.

Draco sat back and put his hands in his lap. "You're just drunk and feeling sorry for yourself, Granger. You're not a failure, and I doubt you could be even if you tried. You're smart and you have this annoying tendency to always be right and you're caring and loving…"

"You're just saying all that to make me feel better,' she said.

"No, I'm not. I mean, what would _I_ get out of that?' shrugged Draco.

Hermione laughed and sat back. "Look at me, I'm pathetic. Do you think I'm pathetic?"

"Yes, I do."

"You're not supposed to say that!"

Draco smirked. "Look, I'm not going to lie to you and tell you what you want to hear, alright? We're not friends. If you want to drink yourself into a comatose then knock yourself out. But just…' he paused and hesitated. He figured it would be alright to continue, she was drunk; chances are she wouldn't remember any of their conversation tomorrow. He bent down, picked up her bottle and handed it to her, '… just don't give up on the ones you love, okay? If I learnt anything from last year, it's that."

Hermione fingered the neck of the bottle as she looked at him. Draco pretended not to notice her and just stared into the fire, hoping to God she really would not remember him saying that in the morning.

She leant against him and peered into his pale face. "I don't get you, Malfoy."

"What's to get?"

"Everything. Anything. You just make no sense.' she said. 'I thought I had you figured out. You were always just Draco Malfoy, the idiot from Slytherin who made our lives hell."

Draco smiled. "That sounds like me."

"But you're not like that now,' she said. 'You're… I don't know what you are."

"People change,' he said simply.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Do you love Tonks?"

Draco looked at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"Tonks? Do you love her? Is she someone you'd say you care a lot about?"

"What part of this ridiculous conversation has made you think that it was okay for you to ask me these sorts of questions?"

"Well, it _is_ rather obvious,' she giggled. 'She's the only one you tolerate, maybe even like. And she _is_ your cousin, and there was that three month period you spent with her alone before you came here and you can't live with someone that long without some sort of bonding to occur…"

"Don't you ever just shut up?' he asked.

Hermione just smiled dopily at him.

Draco sighed and pursed his lips. "Look…I'm not perfect, Granger. But I'm not who I used to be either. Trust me,' he added with a wry grin, 'if you ever lose part of yourself, you'll see the world differently too. I don't like asking for help. I never did. I never will. But my whole life was turned upside down, and all I needed was somewhere to stay, but Nymphadora, in her infuriating, heroic way, shoehorned her way in and made it … better. I've never really been around anyone like her before, and although its been frustrating and annoying and sometimes I rather think I'd like to put my head through that wall over there than hear her voice or see her stupid pink hair again, its been surprsinly…nice."

Hermione put her head on his shoulder and giggled. "Who would have thought you'd be such a sap, Malfoy?"

"Granger, if you repeat _anything_ I've said tonight I will promptly relieve you of a pulse."

"I'm quivering,' she laughed.

Draco glared at her as she contunied to giggle. "Remind me to tell Weasley never to let you have alcohol again."

Hermione smiled and opened her mouth to say something, but her smile fell and she grimaced and she claped a hand over her mouth. "Oh… _oh_…"

"What?' asked Draco, alarmed. 'What is it?"

"Oh God…' groaned Hermione. "I think… I'm going…"

Draco's eyes widened. "No! No! Don't you dare vomit in here!"

Hermione groaned and as though she had been shocked, passed the bottle on her lap blindly to him, leapt out of the sofa and ran from the room.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Great,' he muttered, drowning the last of the Firewhiksey, 'just _great_."

And, reluctantly, he got to his feet and slowly went after her.

------------------

Ron wondered if it was normal for a guy to have to pee so much in one night.

This was just one of the many things that went through his mind as he lay wide awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Some of these things included The Chudley Cannons and their chances for next season (not very good, he had almost immediately concluded sadly), if it were possible to sneak into London and get himself one of those fantastic jam doughnuts Hermione had bought him last week, what Ginny was up to tomorrow and if he would be able to maybe meet up with her in Hogsmeade, Hermione and her new top that was just tight enough, how much money he had left from his birthday to maybe get himself a new pair of pants, that his balls were a bit itchy and how desperately ne needed a shower. Not once had he thought about Horcruxes, or the war, or what was going to happen tomorrow, and he was more grateful for it than he ever thought he could be. He only wished Harry could experience the same piece of mind.

He rolled onto his side and snuggled into the bunched-up quilt. He wished Hermione was there. He wished she would just move in with them already instead of insisting upon going home every night. He understood why, he understood her obsessive need to make sure her parents were alright… but he was also selfish and wanted to sleep with his girlfriend. Not in that way.

Okay, maybe in that way.

This was an incresingly frequent problem in their relationship. Ron wanted to go further with her. He was a boy, and he had a pulse… it wasn't something anyone could hold against him, really. He was very physically attracted to Hermione, and he mused that he knew he had been for a very long time, but he wasn't sure on how to bring the subject up with her. Did she feel the same way about him? He knew she cared about him a great deal, although it was taking some getting used to… but was she sexually attracted to him? When he kissed her she never pulled away, and when he pressed her up against a wall she would always smile against his mouth, and she would even sometimes sit in his lap and straddle him. These were all good signs, weren't they? He wished he could ask someone, Bill was probably the best one to ask, he always had been… but just the thought of talking to Bill about Hermione made him cringe. Could he talk to Harry? Had he any experience with all this? Considering that Harry's last girlfriend had indeed been his little sister, Ron descided he did not want to know. This thought thankfully deflated the growing tent in his pants brought on, yet again, by the thought of Hermione.

Where was she anyway?

Feeling frustrated, Ron threw his covers off him and got out of bed. This insomnia demanded food as it's cure, and it demanded it now.

Out of habit, Ron grabbed his wand and headed out of the room. It was dark, and Ron wasn't sure whether knowing his way around this house in the dark as well as he knew The Burrow was a good thing or not. Ron lit the tip of his wand and let his mind wander over the events of the day, and his mind immediately went to the silver sword now back in his bedroom, tucked away safetly in his closet. It still felt surreal to own such a valuable piece of history. He wondered what his parents would say if they found out he had it. He hadn't decided whether or not he was going to tell them at all. He felt a strange need to keep it a secret.

Ron stopped short in the middle of the hall as he heard someone gasp. He frowned and rasied his wand, casting the beam of light down the hallway. It was empty, the horrible wallpaper peeling off and the carpet stained. He walked forward cautsiouly and rounded the corner, gripping his wand tightly, ready for someone to jump out at him.

And that's when he saw the light flooding out of the ajar door up ahead.

Feeling slightly more at ease, Ron headed up toward the door. Was someone crying? No, they were coughing. Was someone sick? Was it Harry? Had he had another nightmare? Alarmed now, Ron rushed forward, his bare feet slapping quietly on the floorboards. He stopped at the door and pushed it inward… and stopped, his eyes widening at what he was seeing.

Hermione had her head in the toilet, her small hands clutching the porcelain basin as if it were her lifeline. Her face was a delightful shade of green and she was spitting, coughing, gagging and dry-reaching into the toilet, her back heaving. Knelt down beside her was Draco. With one hand he was holding her bushy hair away from her face, and with the other he was rubbing her back soothingly as she coughed and spluttered. His brow was etched into the tiniest of frowns, and in the split second it took before Draco looked up to see Ron standing in the doorway, Ron could have sworn he saw concern on Draco's face.

Draco said nothing, just looked at Ron with a blank expression. Ron wanted to say a hundred things at once, but finally settled on, "Is she alright?"

"She's fine,' said Draco, looking back at Hermione, 'although I can't say the same for the toilet, I'm afraid."

"Bugger the bloody loo, Malfoy, tell me why my grilfriend is throwing her guts up!"

Hermione groaned and rested her head on the rim of the toilet seat. "I need water."

Draco sighed and rubbed her back some more. "I'll get you some. Here, Weasley, stay with her."

Ron frowned even more. He wanted to snap, 'I don't need you to tell me how to look after my girlfriend!', but before he could even get the first word out Draco was on his feet and out of the room.

Draco didn't look at Ron, just kept his grey eyes down asw he squeezed past him. After walking a few paces did he dare look back. He saw Ron disappear into the bathroom hastily and heard his deep voice whispering words Draco could not make out, no doubt words of comfort. He wondered if Hermione would even be awake to tell him what had happened. Deciding, again, he didn't care, Draco shook his head and headed down the hall.

But he had only taken a few more steps before he leapt back as someone apparated in front of him.

"Nymphadora!"

Tonks tucked her wand in her back pocket sighed and looked at the ceiling, as if praying for strength. "Draco, I won't tell you again…"

"I'll call you anything I want!' snapped Draco. 'Look at the state of you!"

She looked as if someone had tied a rope around her ankles, attatched her to a tractor and dragged her around the muddy paddocks of Yorkshire. There was dust all in her hair, her robes were muddy and torn and there was grime all over her face.

Tonks looked down at herself. "Nothing a little wash powder won't fix. Now, where's Harry? I need to talk to him."

"Where's… Nymphadora, tell me what's happened."

"Draco, I don't have time…"

"Make time!" snapped Draco.

Tonks frowned. "What's your problem?"

Draco pursed his lips and squared his shoulders. "Nothing."

"I'm fine, honestly,' she said. She pulled her wand out, waved it across her face and all the dirt instantly disappeared, revealing the clean, heart-shaped face of his counsin underneath, completely unharmed. 'See? Not a scratch."

Draco surveyed her carefully, and Tonks frowned a little more, confused.

After a moment's assessment, seemingly satisfied Draco straightened up. "What happened? Where did you go? Did Death Eaters do this?"

"Death Eaters and Dementors… don't painc! We're fine!' she added hastily, seeing him whiten.

"You faced Death Eaters and Dementors and you still maintain that this isnt an Order matter?' demanded Draco. 'There are not enough Aurors to take on both of those enemies, especially at the same time!"

"Why do you think I'm here?' said Tonks impatiently. 'I need to speak to Harry, or Lily, or just someone that bloody lives here!"

"I live here,' he said irritably.

Tonks sighed. Figuring she wouldn't be getting anywhere until she told him what was going on, she ran a hand through her had and lenghtened it to her shoulders, turning it purple. "Okay… just don't flip out when I tell you."

Draco paled even further. Images of his dream came flooding back to him. "What is it? Nympahdora, what's happened?"

"There was… another mass break-out from Azkaban.' She said carefully. 'We think You-Know-Who sent the Dementors to accompany the Death Eaters to help with the seige. Seven high security prisoners escaped."

"And was…' he paused, pulling himself together, '…who were they?"

Tonks hesitated. "Your father wasn't one of them."

Draco wasn't sure this was a good thing. "What happened to him? He's alright, isnt he?"

She bit her lip, looking as if she wanted to be somewhere, anywhere, else.

"_Tell me_!' he snapped, unable to keep the fear out of his tone.

"We… when he found him… there was a Dementor over him. It was… well…'

Draco felt his knees buckle. "It didn't… please, tell me…"

Tonks shook her head. "No, we got to him just in time. We had to fight off that Dementor and two other Death Eaters to get to him. I think they were… under orders…"

"To kill him,' finished Draco darkly. He clenched his jaw and looked down at the floor.

Tonks frowned at him sympathetically as the painting beside her began to shake dangerously on the wall. "Draco…"

She reached out to touch him, but he flinched and took a small step away. Tonks sighed inwardly and let her hand drop.

Draco folded his arms over his chest. "Is he alright? Did your people protect him?"

"I'm not going to lie, he's pretty beaten up. Dawlish thinks he was… you know, tortured… and he had lots of cuts and bruises…"

"Where is he?"

"At the Ministry, the Auror infirmary. They didn't want to take him to St. Mungo's, because its too public and there isnt enough security…"

"He's been tortured and almost Kissed, and you're telling me they're worried he's going to go around killing people?' snapped Draco angrily. 'He should be resting, not locked up in some cell at your bloody offices!"

"Draco, your father is a criminal!' said Tonks firmly. 'And we do not put criminals in low-secutiry areas, its that simple! Its not like we want him to suffer! If that's what he wanted we could have just let the Death Eaters have him!"

"And what will you do with him when he gets better?' demanded Draco. 'Just throw him back into Azkaban?"

Tonks frowned. "He's performed terrible crimes, Draco. He needs to serve time."

Draco glared at her. It was times like this that reminded them just how different they, and their opinions, actually were. Most of the time they would become complacent, and the line that devided them from each other would become blurred and Draco would forget that he was meant to be hating her and everyone else. He could get so swept up in their cause and their lives that he would almost feel a part of it. He was contantly confused about his loyalties. If he sided with his family, he felt he was betraying Tonks and the trust she seemed to have placed him, and then he would feel guilty and he couldn't understand why. He hated her sometimes, and this was one of them. He hated that she had seen his father and he hadn't. He hated that she could stand there and preach about something that had nothing to do with her.

And he hated, most of all, that he had a point, and that it was probably right.

He exhaled slowly through his long nose. "Who escaped?"

"All the ones we caught ages ago. Avery… Rookwood… Nott, althought we managed to get him back… and we got a Lestrange, even though he hadn't broken out…'

"Was my mother there?"

"I didn't see her."

"No, he wouldn't have sent her, she would have gotten in the way,' said Draco thoughtfully.

Tonks pursed her lips. She was torn in two. She needed to find Harry and tell him what had happened, if he didn't already know, but she also wanted to stay with Draco and talk to him about his parents. He never really talked about them, nor about how he was feeling about their situation, and she was very curious as to how it affected him, if at all.

She put her hands on her hips. "Look, I want to talk to you, but I need to see Harry."

"Well, I don't know where he is,' said Draco with a shrug.

"You're looking for Harry?'

Draco turned around and Tonks peered around him to see Ron standing there in his pajamas, craddling a clearly unconcious Hermione in his arms. Tonks's eyes widened, afraid she had been cursed or something, but she didn't even get to ask what had happened as Draco cut her off.

"She's looking for Potter,' said Draco flatly. 'Its important."

"I think he's in his room,' said Ron, 'let me put her to bed and I'll meet you up there."

Tonks and Draco were in Harry's room only moments later. Draco went in first, not feeling the need to knock nor announce his presence apparently, but rather just burst right in. Tonks spared him a look of hopelessness, before she noticed Harry lying on the bed flat on his back, fully dressed, the curtains still open and the bed covers not turned down.

Draco kicked Harry's foot that was danlging over the edge. "Potter!"

"Draco, don't kick him!' hissed Tonks irritably.

But Harry continued to sleep.

Tonks frowned and knelt down beside him. He hand't even taken off his glasses. She grasped his shoulder and gently shook him. "Harry? Harry, wake up."

Harry didn't respond.

"What's wrong with him?' asked Draco. 'Why won't he wake up?"

"Harry?' she tried again, a little louder.

Nothing.

"You think maybe he's died?' asked Draco hopefully.

Ron came into the room with a tired sigh. He looked around, obviously exepcting to see Harry up and about, but he frowned when he saw the scene before him. "He's still asleep?"

"I can't wake him up. _Harry_!' shouted Tonks. But Harry still continued to sleep.

"Everyone seems to be passing out tonight,' said Draco as Ron knelt down besdie Harry as well. 'Smell him, perhaps he's been drinking."

"He's not drunk, you idiot,' snapped Ron. He looked down and picked up a small, empty vial from the floor. He exmained it for a moment, then looked at Harry, then shook his head with a sigh.

"What is it?' asked Tonks.

Ron handed her the vial. "Hermione made him Dreamless Sleep Potion."

"I thought he refused to take it,' said Tonks.

"He did,' said Ron, giving Harry a look.

"That doesn't explain why he wont wake up!' said Draco.

"Hermione put a little sedative in there too, but she didn't tell him,' explained Ron. 'She wanted him to have a good night's sleep, uninterupted."

Tonks sighed and got to her feet. "Alright, well, how long until he wakes up?"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno. Depends on when he took it."

"How long does the sedative last?' asked Draco.

"I think Hermione said ten hours."

"_Ten hours_?" cried Tonks.

"Just revivie him already,' said Draco impatiently.

"No, leave him!' said Ron quickly, stepping between Tonks and Harry protectively.

Tonks frowned. "Ron, what are you doing? We need to wake him up."

"No!' said Ron.

"No?' said Draco, frowning. 'The world's going to hell and you're just going to let him _sleep_?"

"Yes,' said Ron firmly, 'I am."

Tonks frowned. "Ron, this is important!"

"So is this. Look at him!' said Ron, pointing at Harry. 'He's not in any state to be helping anyone right now."

"We need him!"

"And he needs to sleep!' snapped Ron firmly. 'He hasn't slept propper in bloody weeks! You want to alert everyone? Get Mrs Potter… I'll help… just don't wake him up. Let him have some rest! Whatever it is we can handle it. There's no need to disturb him."

Tonks sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry. It's just… my first insticnt to go straight to Harry, you know?"

Ron nodded. "I get that, really, I do. But we can't wake him."

Draco rolled his eyes, muttered something about sissy Gryffindors and walked out of the room. Tonks smiled apologetically at Ron and ran after Draco, an irritable hunch to her shoulders.

Ron looked down at Harry and frowned. He reached down, plucked the glasses off his nose, folded them up and placed them carefully on the beside table. And with one last look, he followed after Tonks and Draco.

-------------

Slowly and surely, the world began to come back into focus. Consciousness seemed to draw him toward it like a mother beckoning him into her arms. Harry's eyes fluttered open, he blinked a few times, and then he looked up at the ceiling. It was glowing orange from the rising sun outside.

He drew in a long breath, held it for a second and then let it out again with a small smile. He felt rejuvinated and comfortable and warm and he wanted to lie in this bed for the next forty years. His eyes weren't itchy from fatigue, his back didn't hurt and his head didn't ache. Unless he was mistaken, Harry was pretty sure he'd just experinced what he heard others call, 'a good night's sleep'. He made a mental note to give Hermione the biggest box of chocolates he could find.

Harry reached for his glasses on the bedside table, put them on and sat up. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept like that. No visions, no flashes, no memories, no dreams…nothing. It was bliss, and he knew how people could become addicted to the potion so easily. He scratched his chest, yawned and looked down at himself. He needed to change out of yesterdays clothes, but he wanted food even more. Smiling to himself, he got up relcutantly and padded out of the room, resolving to bring his food back upstairs and have a good proper breakfast in bed.

But when he got downstairs, he found that this wasn't going to be a possibility.

People where everywhere. It was total anachry, and already Harry's elated, well-rested feeling was quickly fading. He walked down the final staricase carefully, stepping around people, looking around in alarm. There was never this many people unless something major had happened. Oh God, had he slept through an entire war? What had happened?

"Hey, you!' he shouted, grabbing the first person he could, a stout young wizard he remember Tonks recruiting for the Order just the week prior.

The young wizard looked alarmed to be spoken to by him. "Y-yes?"

"Where's my mo-… er… Remus, where's Remus Lupin?"

"He's downstairs in the kitchen, but…"

Harry didn't hear anymore. Hastily, he shoved his way through the masses and rushed downstairs.

The dining room was almost as full, and Harry had to wonder if this actually was all Order members and not half the Auror offices as well. Like the floor above them, people were bustling around, looking harassed, waving their hands about and talking venhemently. All were top members of the Order, including Kinglsey, McGonagall and Fleur. What had happened? What had he missed?

He began to walk toward the table, having just spotted his mother's long red hair. She was standing over Remus, who was sitting down next to her, dictating with a small frown as he took notes. Ron was nearby, reading off of a long piece of parchment. Tonks was pacing behind him, questioning Draco about something. They seemed very busy and very stressed.

Lily jumped as Harry siezed her arm. "Harry! Good lord…"

"What's going on?' he demanded. 'What's happened? Why are all these people here?"

"Harry, just…"

"Don't tell me to _calm down_!' he snapped. 'What the bloody hell's happened?'

Everyone had gone silent now. Harry ignored them all, just stared down at his mother with determined impatience. Lily pulled her arm free, exchanged a look with Remus, and ran a hand through her hair.

"There's been a mass break-out from Azkaban,' she explained. 'High sectruity prisonrers were broken out and…unfortunately… most of them got away."

Harry took a step back, anger flaring in his chest. He looked around at everyone, his eyes narrowed. "Most of them?"

Remus got to his feet. "Here, Harry, sit down…"

"I don't want to sit down,' snapped Harry angrily. 'When did all this happen?"

"At approximately two this morning,' said Kingsley, 'but we're still working on an exact time so we can calculate…"

"Two this _morning_?' cried Harry, astounded. 'That was almost nine hours ago! Why am I only just finding out about this now? Why didn't anyone wake me up?"

No one answered.

Harry clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists in his pockets. "Everyone who isn't family get out of this room. _NOW_! Not you three,' he added as Remus, Tonks and Draco began to leave, 'you three stay too."

In one collective movement, everyone but Ron and Lily began to make their way out of the room. Harry didn't look at them, just glared at his mother and Ron with blazing narrowed eyes as Remus, Tonks and Draco sat back down. And only when the room was completely empty did Harry fold his arms over his chest and give a humorless chuckle.

"So…' he said, as if they were discussing the weather, '… the hell?"

"Harry, really, you don't have to speak like that to people,' said Lily, frowning. 'We can see you're upset, and we all knew that once you woke up and found out what had happened you would be."

"Why didn't anyone wake me?' demanded Harry again.

Draco pointed at Ron. "He told us not to."

Ron glared up at Draco. "You just _had_ to snitch, didn't you?"

"I'm a Seeker, Weasley, Snitches are in my job description."

"Is this true?' asked Harry.

"Yes, Marcus had a contract and everthing…' said Draco.

"Not you, you bloody idiot,' snapped Harry angrily. He looked at Ron and raised an eyebrow. 'Well?"

Ron got to his feet. "Yeah, it's true. I told them all to leave you be."

"What the bloody hell for?' shouted Harry.

"Gee, I don't know, maybe because you haven't had a proper sleep in months!' retorted Ron irritably.

"If anything happens, I want to be there for it,' said Harry firmly, jabbing a finger. 'I don't care if I'm sleeping or passed out or in a complete coma! You wake me up so I can bloody be there! This war is _my_ responsibility!"

"And you are _my_ responsibility,' said Lily, stepping forward, 'Ron was perfectly in the right to leave you be. I will not have you pushed to the point of complete exhausting, nor will I let you speak to Ron like that, especially when he is only caring about you and your best interests!"

Harry looked down at her, matching the glare she was giving him with one of his own. "I'm not going to tell you again… I'm _fine_. I don't need looking after, and I don't appreciate being left out of what's happening. Esepcially when it's as important as this!"

"Harry, we all missed it,' said Remus. 'None of the Order was there. The Aurors got there first, and by the time even _they_ got there they were almost too late themseleves. The only reason we found out as soon as we did is because Dora came straight home and alerted us to it. There was nothing to wake you for, and Ron was right, you did need the rest."

"I don't need rest, I need to be a part of this!' said Harry. 'I need to be here!"

"Well, we didn't need you here,' said Ron.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Yeah, you heard me,' said Ron coming around the table and getting right into Harry's face, 'we handled it all on our own. We didn't need the Boy Who Lived to step in, we handled it by ourseleves. We're not brainless dolts, you know, and we can do things without you there to supervise. What would you have done if you were awake? _We_ couldn't even do anything about it, we were already to late to stop it, so what makes you think you're so God-like and that _you_ could? All you would have done is sit here and brood about how you couldn't stop it and how you knew that you should have. That wouldn't have helped anyone, Harry.

'You know what? I'm glad I didn't wake you, and not just because being here with nothing to do would have made you even more depressed than you already are, but because it let you actually get some rest. It let you recharge and have a few hours without worrying about sodding everything you can't bloody control, or seeing that stupid git in your head every five minutes, or your scar hurt so bad it almost brings you to your knees. If letting you have one night's sleep with a few hours or nothing but comfort makes me a bad friend, then I guess I'm a bad friend."

And with that, Ron shoved a completely stunned Harry for good measure, muttered something about Hermione and stormed out of the room.

Harry looked at the door long after it had stomped swinging from the force of Ron barging through it, the sound of Ron's angry voice echoing around his head like a church bell. He rubbed his chest where Ron and shoved him and looked around at the others. Although they were expressionless, Harry could tell that they agreed with every word Ron had said.

Lily sighed. "Harry…"

He flinched, his scar prickling. "Who escaped?"

Tonks came around the table and handed him the list. "We managed to get two back in custody, but these are the ones that are still unaccounted for."

Harry frowned as he read down the list, then looked up at Draco. "What happened to your Dad?"

"Oh, he's… um…"

"My Father is fine,' said Draco cooly, cutting over Tonks, 'thank you for your concern, Potter."

"…Roiser… _Rookwood_?' cried Harry in alarm. 'Rookwood escaped? You didn't catch him?'

"You have a specific problem with him? Aside from him being a Death Eater and completely evil, of course,' he added hastily at Tonks's look.

Harry fingered the parchment aprehensively. Rookwood was who had told him about The Arch in the Department of Mysteries, and thus managed to provide something of an explination toward how Lily had come back to life. Would he tell Voldemort Harry had gone to see him? Most definitely. Would Voldemort try to find out why Harry had asked about it? Again, it was highly probably. Harry tried to push aside his panic; he needed to start practicing Occlumency again to keep Voldemort out. If he managed to get it, Harry knew he wouldn't be able to stop him, and he would find out everything they had been up to, including the fact that five of his Horcruxes were now destroyed.

_There's only me left_, he thought. He thought of Hermione (who's absence from the room he had noticed) and her reaction last night and how upset she'd been. And now Ron was mad at him too. It was a strange experience, he'd never had them both mad at him at the same time before. His scar prickled again.

"Harry,' said Lily, putting a hand on his shoulder, 'go back to bed. We can handle this."

Harry shook his head. "No… no, I can't sleep now. We have to start planning. If the Death Eaters rally they'll start a full-scale attack. And with these blokes out now and on their side…"

"We've already started,' said Remus, holding up the parchment he had been writing on.

"But…"

"Harry, we have things under control,' said Tonks with a reassuring smile.

Harry looked at his mother. She gave him a look he knew meant 'go crawling upstairs on your hands on knees and beg Ron and Hermione to forgive you', but before he could even open his mouth to protest there were four loud cracks from behind them as four red-headed people apparated into the kitchen.

Molly Weasley let out a sigh and let go of her husband's hand. "Honestly, Muggle London is the most insane establishment I think I have ever come across! All those cars and people…"

Bill laughed and exchanged a look with his little brother Charlie as they took their cloaks off. "Mum, it was your idea to go there in the first place!"

"Only because your father has been nagging me constantly for the past two weeks…"

"I did appreciate it dear,' smiled Arthur, giving her a peck on the cheek.

"Oh, hey guys,' said Charlie, suddenly spotting everyone already in the kitchen. Arthur, Molly and Bill all looked around from each other and smiled, unaware as yet of the tension they had apparated into.

Tonks smiled and rushed over to say hello to Charlie. Remus and Lily smiled politely. Draco rolled his eyes and sat down again. Harry looked away from them all completely.

Molly's smile fell. "Oh, er… are we interupting something?"

"No,' said Lily, looking at Harry, 'I think we're done."

Charlie laughed, and Harry looked around thinking he was making a wise-crack. But instead he saw that Tonks was stroking Charlie's jaw where a small copper tinge was growing.

"What's this crap on your chin?' She said, eyeing his jaw suspiciously. 'Its not Spattergroit, is it? You know what you have to do if it is…'

"Buzz off you crazy bint, I'm not standing naked under a full moon in a bucket of eels eyes!' chuckled Charlie, shoving her away. 'Bill might be up for it though."

Tonks ducked as Bill hit Charlie across the back of the head as he passed.

"I'm growing a beard,' said Charlie, twirling his wand around matter-of-factly.

"No, that won't be much of a fire hazard at all, will it?' said Tonks sarcasticaly, rolling her eyes.

Harry looked at Draco who had just chosen that moment to stand along side him. He was glaring at Tonks and Charlie as they laughed. "I've never seen them that friendly before. If I were Lupin I'd be baring my teeth at him."

"They're friends, Malfoy,' said Harry, 'they went to school together, that's all. Remus knows that. And I don't think Tonks chased him for nearly twelve months just to cheat on him with Charlie."

Draco simply 'hmmm'd' in response. He looked at Charlie with an air of superiority and disgust, as though he were dirt under his boot. Harry was midly surprised; he'd never really seen Draco act this way toward Charlie. In fact, next to Bill, Charlie seemed to be the only Weasley Draco could actually tolerate.

"Harry?'

Harry looked around at his mother behind him and sighed. "What? What is it now?"

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Gee, I really have no idea."

"I'm irritated."

"I can tell."

"You don't understand,' he said, pulling her away slightly so they could talk privately, 'It's not that I'm nosy and want to be in on everything, I _need_ to be in on everything. I need to be told when things like this happen."

"And you need to be able to trust us to handle things without you,' said Lily softly. 'The world isnt going to fall to pieces just because you're getting some sleep, or because we're actually handling something for once without you there. Believe it or not, Harry, this war is not all about you. We're all in this together."

"But I'm the only one who can stop it,' said Harry. 'I just… if I loose focus…"

Lily's heart broke as he bowed his head, looking guilty for the first time. She wondered if everything that had happened just now was finally sinking in. She grasped his forearm and gave it a comforting squeeze, but he tensed up and pulled away almost instantly. Lily was finding it increasingly frustrating that he still would not fully accept her. He still seemed hesitant around her, as if afriad she was going to hurt him. Or maybe he really just didn't know how to be around a mother. She couldn't blame him really.

"Well,' said Arthur, walking over from the doorway. Tonks passed him on her way out, giving his arm a friendly squeeze. 'Just been upstairs, and apprently everyone's cleared off. Something about family issues… I don't know… point is we're wonderfully late, yet again, dear."

"We should go then too,' said Molly, giving Harry and Lily another look.

"What? No, Molly, don't be silly,' said Lily, ushering her into the room properly, 'stay for breakfast. Remus was just going to put on some bacon and eggs."

Remus quirked an eyebrow. "I was?"

Lily gave him a look. "Yes, remember?"

"No."

"Remember that memory-lapse desiese of yours?"

"No."

"Probaby why the call it a…"

"_REDUCTO_!"

Harry landed hard on the floor on the other side of the table as he was blasted off his feet. He coughed and groaned, his arm throbbing where he had landed awkwardly. The air was full of dust and he could barely see, but he could hear spells being shouted and names being called, and he reached around blindly for his wand.

"Get out of the way you stupid woman!' shouted an angry voice.

"What are you doing? No! you can't…"

"Mum! _No_!' came a cry.

"Arthur, get behind him!' shouted Remus.

"_CRUCIO_!"

Harry panicked as he heard a woman screaming in pain. He got to his knees and looked around. "Mum? _Mum_!"

A hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up. Harry looked up expectantly, but it was only Draco with a large gash on his arm. "What the hell is he doing?'

"_What_?"

Harry looked around, and only just managed to duck a curse that was hurtling toward him. It went sailing over his head and hit the wall behind him, shooting plaster and brick everywhere. Harry grabbed Draco roughly and moved them both out of the way, and only when they were properly crouched behind the table did Harry get a good look at what was going on.

Molly was lying on the floor, withering in pain and screaming as she was hit over and over with the Cruciatus Curse. Lily was crouched down on the floor beside a delirious and obviuosly hurt Bill, who was slumped up against the wall. But Harry barely noticed as he gaped at the person standing over Molly, cursing her with rage.

It was Charlie.

Remus fired another curse at Charlie, but Charlie lifted the spell from Molly, shielded Remus's curse, fired another in return and went back to his mother.

"Arthur!' cried Remus, ducking. 'Arthur, curse him!"

Arthur didn't follow this instruction, but instead ran toward Charlie, ready to charge him to the ground.

"Arthur, no!" shouted Remus.

But it fell on deaf ears. Charlie turned just in time to see his father mere feet from him, pointed his wand and shouted '_AVADA_…"

"_STUPEFY_!"

Charlie went limp and pitched forward into Arthur, sending them both crashing roughly to the ground. Molly's cries of pain died and she too went limp, her chest rising in falling as she shook from the aftershocks of the curse. Harry looked around to see who had cast the spell, and he saw Bill with his wand still raised, a look of fury and confusion on his scarred face.

"What the hell was that about?' demanded Arthur, rolling from under his son. '_Charlie_! What in the world…Molly… oh, _Molly_…"

"What happened?' asked Lily, helping Bill to his feet. 'My God, _Charlie_…"

"Mum?' asked Bill, looking down at his mother apprehensively. 'Dad, is she…

Arthur was already knelt down beside her, stroking her hair and kissing her sweaty forehead. Molly just reached out for him weakly, and Arthur took her hand and whispered comforting words to her.

Harry dragged Draco from their hiding spot and watched as Remus knelt down beside Charlie, his brow knotted in a frown. "Is he alright?"

"Physically, yes,' said Remus, taking Charlie's pulse.

"What happened?' asked Draco.

"Imperius Curse, I'd most likely wager,' said Remus, looking over at Arthur and Molly. 'It's the only explination there is. He would never attack anyone, especially both of you."

"But he was fine!' said Arthur. 'He's been with us all day!"

Bill groaned. "Oh, of _course_!"

"What?' asked Harry.

"When he went missing for a few hours! Weeks ago!' said Bill, looking annoyed. 'He'd been off since then, I could tell. And he kept buggering off for a few hours each night, but I just thought he went down the pub to get his mind of things!"

"But that happened _weeks_ ago,' said Lily reasonably, 'he can't have been under Imperius for that long, he would have gone mad by now."

"Not if they released him from it for a few days,' said Draco. 'That's what I did with Madam Rosmerta, I'd let her have a few days off so she wouldn't go insane."

Everyone looked at him.

Draco shrunk into himself a little. "Well, I did. Why wouldn't they do the same with him?"

"But he never mentioned anything,' said Arthur, helping Molly to her feet. 'He never said…"

"They probably modified his memory,' said Draco. 'So he wouldn't ever remember where he'd really been and tell you all about it."

Bill shook his head and broke free of Lily to put his hands on his hips and stare down at his brother. "Merlins beard, how could I have been so bloody _stupid_?"

"Its alright, Bill,'

Harry, like everyone else, flinched at the weakenss in Molly's voice. Despite her weak state, she was looking at Bill with that look mother's gave their sons to tell them that it was okay, and that everything was going to be alright. Bill clenched his jaw as he stared at his mother, her arm around Arthur's shoulder and his arm around her waist as she leant against him. Harry looked over at Lily, but she was looking at Charlie.

When the door banged open again, everyone jumped and raised their wands. But it wasn't a Death Eater, more a very distressed looking Ron.

"What's going on?' he demanded. 'I could hear the noise from up-… _Mum_? Bloody hell, what's happened?"

Molly frowned as Ron rushed over to her, his hands in mid-air as he was afraid to touch her. "Ronald… language…"

"Sod the sodding language, woman, you're hurt! Dad, what's… _Charlie_? What the _hell_…"

"Ron, it's alright, mate,' said Arthur, giving Ron a reassuring clap on the shoulder, 'help me get your mother upstairs and I'll explain on the way."

Ron got on the other side of Molly, put her arm around his shoulders and slowly the three of them began to edge from the room. Remus sighed, levitated Charlie's limp form into the air and made to follow, but Bill rushed forward.

"Its okay, Remus, I'll take him."

"Really, Bill, it's fine…"

"I said I'll take him."

"Bill, you can hardly stand yourself."

"Remus,' said Bill irritably, 'I said I got him."

Remus hesitated, before handing his wand over to Bill. "Alright, but I'm coming with you."

Bill nodded and he and Remus followed the hovering form of Charlie Weasley out of the room after Molly, Arthur and Ron.

Harry looked around, finding himself alone in the room with Draco and his mother. Lily looked at Harry with a determined look.

"I know what you're thinking,' she said.

"This happened because of me,' said Harry, voicing the opinion he had been bursting to express.

Draco threw his hands up into the air. "Once again, Potter, you believe the entire Universe revolves around you."

"Mrs Weasley was standing right behind me when Charlie attacked,' said Harry, 'I heard him tell her to move. He wasn't after her, he was after me. She was just in the way, and he did whatever he thought he had to do. Even curse his own mother."

"You don't know that,' said Lily firmly, 'he could have been after information, hostages, anything!"

"He's had weeks to take them,' said Harry, 'but no, he waited until everyone was gone from upstairs and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were about to leave so there would only be a few people left. I bet he would have tried to pull me aside and get me then, and I would have gone with because, really, who would suspect Charlie? Which is why they probably chose him in the first place."

"May I say something here?' said Draco.

"I'd rather you didn't,' muttered Harry irritably.

"The Dark Lord would not send someone to kill you, Potter,' said Draco, 'he's tried that so many times in the past and it has never worked. Putting Weasley in is too risky and too random. No, the Dark Lord would want to kill you himself. I'm willing to bet he has specific orders that no-one is to lay so much as a jinx on you."

Lily frowned. "Well, that's comforting… in a sadistic kind of way."

"It must be nice, being favoured by the Dark Lord,' muttered Draco resentfully, 'even though you haven't really worked for it, and all you did to earn it was some stupid scar on your head, but hey…"

"Draco,' sighed Lily irritably, 'go away."

Draco scowled and left the room.

Harry pretended to read of the list again so he would have to look at Lily, who was staring him down with her arms folded over her chest.

Lily shifted her weight to one leg. "Harry, you can't feel responsible for this."

"How can I not?' asked Harry, looking up at her.

"They could have sent Charlie in here for anything,' said Lily again, hoping it would sink in. 'As much as I hate to admit it, I think Draco has a point. Voldemort will not want anyone touching you. He's too proud and too determind to… well…' she paused, looking awkward.

"So you think Charlie was here to spy?' asked Harry.

Lily shrugged. "Who knows for sure really? But I think that would be more likely."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Buggering hell, he could have told them anything! He could have told them about you!"

"I think you would have known if he knew about me by now,' said Lily. 'You would have felt his reaction."

"Not if he's using Occlumency against me,' said Harry, rubbing his forehead. 'Either way, it doesn't matter what he was here for, does it? Its still all my fault. Mrs. Weasley was hurt, Mr. Weasley was almost killed! Bill's weak enough as it is with the Full Moon coming up, and I know he doesn't change but it still affects him, and to be thrown against a wall like that…' he trailed off and shook his head. 'I'm putting everyone in danger, arent I?"

"No, Harry, and that's enough of that kind of talk,' said Lily, crossing over to him and grabbing his arms. 'Everyone is here by their own choice, and you had no control over what happened just now."

Harry looked at her, a sudden gleam in his eye. "No, I didn't. But I can."

Lily had a bad feeling all of a sudden. "Harry, I know that look… your father used to look like that before he did something terribly rash and I don't want you to do anything impuslve."

"I'm going upstairs,' he said flatly.

Lily watched him go sadly, his wand sticking out of his back pocket and the list of escaped Death Eaters scrunched in his hand. He had looked so well rested and almost peaceful when he had run into the room just ten minutes ago, but now he looked as exausted as ever. She sat down heavily and rested her elbows on the table when the door banged open again. She looked over her shoulder, expecting to see Harry, but it was not him.

"Arthur, what are you doing down here?"

Arthur Weasley smiled tiredly and crossed over to the table. "Molly wanted a book to read while she's in bed. The woman can not just put her feet up for ten minutes; she has to be doing something."

Lily smiled, feeling easier at Arthur's returned humor. "How is she?"

"Oh she's fine, really, just a bit sore and a bit confused,' said Arthur, sitting down next to Lily with a tired groan, 'as are we all. I mean, really… _Charlie_!"

"Where is he?"

"Upstairs in Ron's room. Bill insisted on sitting with him until he wakes up. I think the poor boy feels a bit guilty, to be honest,' said Arthur thoughtfully. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. 'How could we all have been so complacent? How could we not see it?"

Lily patted Arthur's hand comfortingly. "Smarter people than us have been fooled, Arthur. Even Dumbledore was duped by that Death Eater posing as Mad-Eye for nearly ten months, and Dumbledore was probably the cleverest of us all."

Arthur nodded. "Yes, you never really can be sure, can you? Children!' he chuckled, shaking his head. 'They'll be the death of us!"

"Amen to that,' muttered Lily, looking up at the ceiling.

Arthur frowned. "Something the matter?"

"No, nothing."

"Lily, I'm the father of six boys, I know when I'm being lied to."

Lily sighed. "Its nothing, really. You don't need to hear about my problems. You've got enough of your own at the moment."

Arthur smiled. "Ron is upstairs with Molly, he can keep her company for a few more minutes."

"Oh… I don't know…"

"Lily, if there's one thing I've learned is that parents need to talk more with each other,' said Arthur kindly, 'no-one else knows what we go through, do they? You need to talk to someone who actually gets it."

Lily pursed her lips and considered the man next to her for a long moment. "Well… it's nothing, really… you'll think me silly when I tell you."

Arthur sat back in his seat. "Try me."

"I don't… its just…' she paused and ran a hand through her long red hair, trying to figure out how best to word it without sounding paranoid, '… I don't think Harry loves me."

"Are... are you serious?"

Lily nodded.

Arthur let out a short laugh of disbelief. "Why would you ever think something as absurd as that?"

"He pushes me away all the time,' she said, feeling emotional already, 'he wont let me comfort him, and he wont talk to me about what's bothering him, he keeps everything bottled up… its almost as if he's afraid to get close to me."

"Well… that's rather understandable, isnt it?' said Arthur.

Lily frowned.

Arthur sighed and sat up properly. "Look, I'd like to think I know Harry pretty well by now, and I see him as a bit of a creature of habit. He's feircely independent because he doesn't know how else to be. He doesn't know how to be someone's son. He's always had to do things on his own, and having a mother is something he's just trying to get used to. He even pushed Molly away when she would dote on him; he would blush and mumble and by all accounts be very uncomfortable because he is just not used to that sort of affection.

'The only thing he ever had close to a parent was Sirius, and he loved him like a father… but then Sirius died, and he had to deal with that parental-loss all over again, and… forgive me if I'm stepping out of line… but I think he's just so afraid he's going to loose you too, that he'd rather not get close to save himself from that kind of hurt again."

Lily looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "My sister is an idiot."

Arthur snorted. "Yes, I don't doubt that."

"What can I do to convince him?' she asked.

"Oh, how I wish I had a parenting book I could give you that had all the answers,' he laughed, getting to his feet, 'sadly there is no such thing."

"You should write one,' smiled Lily, 'raising seven children, you must have _some_ idea of what you're doing."

"I find parenting to be rather like that Muggle card game, Poker,' he said happily, 'you can pretend you know what you're doing all you want, and you can go along with your Poker-face to convince everyone else… but in the end, its all just pure luck."

Lily smiled up at him. "Thank you, Arthur."

Arthur smiled, patted her on the shoulder and left Lily to her thoughts.

-----------------

Harry peered out the door into the hallway. Just like the night before, it was completely empty and silent. Relieved, Harry crept out of his room and shut the door softly behind him. He gripped his Firebolt tightly in his hand and, with one last look at the door, he headed off down the corridor.

He knew he could have apparated, but he didn't actually know where he was going and would probably splinch himself if he tried. He preferred flying anyway; it had been so long since he'd been up on his broom, the wind through his hair and the clouds beneath him. The fresh air would certainly do him the world of good.

Jumping the last step on the staircase, the one that creaked, Harry put his free hand in his pocket and felt the tiny trunk and the tip of his wand. This was the right thing to do, wasn't it? He was sure it was. It felt right. In fact, he'd been thinking about it more and more over the past few months, and the events of the day had only cemented the idea and its credibility firmly in his mind. Would they be mad? Probably. Would they understand? They would have to. Hermione was a smart girl, she'd work it out and then explain it to everyone else, surely.

Feeling a twinge of sadness, Harry pushed these thoughts from his mind and continued downstairs.

It wasn't like he was just going to leave, he had remembered to leave a note this time that explained everything. He knew they would find it in the morning, and by then he would be long gone. It was better this way; no awkward smiles, no need to explain himself for once… just a clean cut-off.

Finally down in the Entrance hall, Harry gave the small golden line of light under the door that led to the dining room a glance and began to creep toward the front door so as not to wake Mrs Black, who's portrait was snoring rather loudy behind the curtain.

"Where you going?"

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. _Bollocks_. He turned around and gripped his broom again tightly. "I'm just going out. For a fly."

Ron just stood there in his striped pajama pants and orange Chudley Cannon's t-shirt with a half-eaten chocolate muffin in his hand and crumbs in the corner of his mouth. He made no reaction to Harry's statement other than one copper eybrow rising slightly.

"A fly?"

"That's right."

"At this time of night?"

"Yep."

"All by yourself?"

"Sure."

Ron just looked at him, not believing a word.

Harry sighed. "Look, just go back to bed, alright?"

"Yeah, I would,' said Ron with a smile, 'but I like going to bed knowing you'll still be here in the morning, see? So that's a bit of a problem."

"What are you on about?"

"Save it,' said Ron, 'you're pissing off, arent you? And you're not planning on coming back."

"So what if I am?"

"So you're a bloody idiot, that's what,' said Ron simply.

Harry gripped his broom handle even tighter. "Ron, it makes sense for me to leave. Look what happened today, to your Mum and your brother… Voldemort is doing all this to get to me. Its bad enough he hurt them, but if he was to hurt you or…' he trailed off and clenched his jaw. 'I will not let him hurt any of you, and me leaving takes the risk away."

Ron sighed and took another bite of his muffin. "Rou fink that's drue, do rou?"

"I know it is."

"Uh huh,' nodded Ron, swallowing. 'Alright then, wait here, I'll go get my stuff…"

"No, Ron,' said Harry quickly as Ron made to leave, 'I'm going alone. You can't come with me."

"The hell I can't."

"Ron, listen,'

"No, _you_ listen,' said Ron firmly. 'I've had just about enough of you today, and as your best friend I'm going to tell you this out of the kindness of my heart – pull your head out of your arse!"

Harry frowned. "You think this is me being melodramatic? Your dad nearly _died_ today!"

"And how does that have anything to do with you?' asked Ron.

"It has _everything_ to do with me,' said Harry firmly. 'I can stop all this, I can put an end to it. That's why I have to leave, to take the focus off you."

"V-Voldemort…' stuttered Ron (he still had issues saying the name), '… and the Death Eaters… huh, sounds like a band… are not just after you. They're after the Order, and the Muggleborns, and anyone who opposes them. My family a blood traitors, we've had a dark cloud over our head for decades! Long before you came along."

"That's why I have to stop him,' said Harry, frustrated with constantly repeating himself, 'I can put an end to all of it. I'm the only one who can."

"And you think that by you leaving is just going to solve all that?' asked Ron. He shook his head hopelessly. "You know, I'm sorry I got so worked up earlier, but you're just really frustrating at the moment. It's all about you, isnt it? The Chosen one… the Boy Who Lived… you never used to be this self absorbed."

Harry frowned. "_Self absorbed_? I'm not…"

"I've been stressed out about all this too, you know,' said Ron. 'Like you said, my Mum was tortured today. My Dad nearly died! My brother's been attacked by a werewolf, another's been under Imperius for the past month, one's off with the Ministry doing Merlin-know's what, my sister's stuck at Hogwarts which is, lets face it, ground zero if You-Know-Who decides he wants to attack, Fred and George are reckless enough to think that nothing will happen to them, Hermione's upstairs getting over a hang-over, you're walking around in a daze half the time, and now you want to go on some suicide mission by yourself! You've got the whole Wizadring world on your sholders? Well, I've got _my_ whole world on mine, but you don't see me running off because I can't handle it, or because I think it would better everyone's life if I wasn't here. Yeah, its hard as all hell, and sometimes I think I'd rather not get out of bed in the morning just like you, but I would never just ditch them. I know how much better I am because I'm here with them."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?' asked Harry, stunned.

Ron shrugged and muttered something intelligable. Harry didn't move. He felt horrible. Ron had never said he'd felt this way, and, he had to admit, Harry had not even considered that he would.

"But hey, what do I know, right?' shrugged Ron. 'You want to leave and put yourself through hell itself, that's fine… but I'm coming with you' Said Ron determindly. 'I promised you I'd stick with you, and that's what I'm going to do. You think you're going to do us a favor by buggering off and taking him on by yourself? Didn't our fifth year teach you anything? That's exactly what he wants you to do! He knows how powerful you can be with us there beside you, and its one of the few things he's still threatened by. He wants you to separate yourself from us. You go haring off now you're walking right into his hands..'

If he said he didn't want Ron to come he would have been lying. He wanted both Ron and Hermione with him, and it was rather unnerving to hear Ron declare that he would follow him anywhere, but he couldn't be selfish about this. He'd given up Ginny, he could handle giving them up to… but Ron's soft arguing was making it harder and harder to leave.

Ron shrugged. "You're my best mate, Harry. We're meant to be in this together, no matter what. You can't just leave just because of what _might_ happen. Don't go where I can't follow."

Harry sighed and set his brookstick against the wall. "Can't you just let me go?"

"Nope, sorry,' smiled Ron, 'Hermione'd kill me."

"Hermione,' groaned Harry, suddnly feeling overwhelmed with guilt, 'she hates me."

"I'm not gonna lie, she's right ticked off with you,' said Ron, 'but she doesn't hate you. She couldn't even if she tried."

Harry looked at him awkwardly. "She, er… told you what happened then?"

Ron nodded. "Don't worry about her, she'll get over it."

"You think she's right?' asked Harry.

"About your 'I'm a Horcrux' theory? Yeah, I do,' smiled Ron, 'but leaving doesn't fix anything. How do you think Hermione would feel in the morning if she woke up and you'd gone? How do you think your _Mum_ would feel?"

Harry looked at his feet. This is exactly why he had not wanted to say good-bye to anyone.

Ron stepped forward and held out his hand. "Come on, don't be a dolt. Give me your broomstick and go back to bed."

"That's it?' asked Harry. 'You're not going to tell me how stupid I'm being and how the idea that I'm one of the Horcruxes is even stupider?"

Ron shrugged. "We can yell tomorrow."

Harry looked at Ron's outstretched hand, and then up into his face. He wasn't looking impatient; in fact, he looked as if he had all the time in the world. Harry was hesitant. He was still sure leaving was the best idea for everyone, but he knew that if he left Ron would follow at that would rather defeat the whole purpose.

"You know,' said Ron after a long moment, his hand still outstretched, 'this whole 'giving you an option' thing is only a ruse. If you try to walk out that door I'll curse you within an inch of your life and don't think I wont. You know how bad-ass my Impediment Jinxes are."

The pit of Harry's stomach churned, and he felt something he hadn't felt in ages; amusement. He laughed, right from his belly, and Ron quickly joined him. They just laughed, caught up in a moment of light humor, and the prickling in Harry's scar seemed to fade. Something in the back of his mind told him that this is how it was meant to be.

"Alright,' chuckled Harry, finally, 'on one condition.'

"Oh yeah, what?"

"Tell me where you got that muffin from?"

Ron laughed and closed the hand around the wooden handle as Harry placed it in his hand. He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder and steered him back up the hallway.

Only then did he replace the wand that had been hidden behind his back in his pocket.

* * *

A/N – Argh! I tried _SO_ hard to get this out before Dealthy Hallows! Alas, my mind is obsessed with its last dose of canon. To reassure you, no I will not stop writing this after DH comes out, nor will the story deviate in any way from the way I have already planned it. Its AU already, no point in changing it now! I certainly won't ditch it, rest assured! I may use some information from Deealthy Hallows though, probably even without realising. I hope you don't mind!

Please review!


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45!

------------------

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Remus raised his wand in a flash of a second, conjured a shield and sent the spell off and into the wall. The stone cracked and Remus was already sending a curse back. Harry leapt to the side, did a half twirl and fired another curse back. Remus side-stepped it with absurd ease, sent back another curse and Harry, thinking it would be simple enough, tried to side-step it as well, but as the curse went flying past him, missing him by inches and ruffling the sleeve of his shirt, he did not see the second curse fired and it struck him hard in the chest, sending him crashing to the floor stiff as a board.

Harry could do nothing but stare as Remus suddenly appeared in his line of vision, a frown etched into his brow. "What was that? I've never been able to get you with something so simple before. _Finite_."

Functionality returned to Harry's limbs, and he allowed Remus to pull him to his feet. "My hocus pocus is out of focus."

"And in English?"

"You just caught me off guard, is all.'

"Do you want to try again?"

Harry nodded. Remus patted him on the arm and moved back to the other end of the room. They had put the dining table up against the wall, making room for the two of them to practice. The walls and floor were littered with scorch marks, evidence of spells gone awry, but thankfully they still had not managed to bring the chandelier down.

Remus raised his wand. "You ready?"

"Remember…"

"Don't hold back, yes, I know."

Harry tensed, waiting for Remus to attack. Remus didn't move at all, just stood there staring at Harry. They had been dueling together long enough that morning for Harry to know that this was part of Remus's strategy; to try and put him off psychologically. He could stand there for almost ten minutes sometimes, just staring, and then out of no-where he would attack. Harry liked it; it forced him to focus for long periods of time, something he had not been able to do lately. His mind seemed to constantly wonder all the time and he hadn't been able to hold onto a single thought for more than…

"_Reducto_!"

"_Protego_!"

Harry's shield protected him just in time. Remus's spell rebounded and went sailing back toward him so fast he had to drop to the floor. The spell went flying over his head, and Harry didn't wait for him to get up.

"_Impedimenta_! _Stupefy_! _Diffindo_!"

Remus rolled, avoiding the first, cast a shield and deflected the second and only just managed to do a summersault over his shoulders to avoid the third. Crouching, Remus aimed his wand at Harry's feet and pulled sharply, sending Harry crashing hard to the floor again. Remus jumped up properly and sent two more spells at Harry, who quickly got up, leapt out of the way of the first and cast a clumsy shield against the second. Steadying himself, he sent a curse flying at Remus, but Remus deflected it with ease, strode forward and cast two more spells at Harry. The first missed his foot only just, but Harry didn't get a shield up in time for the second, and it therefore sent him to the ground again.

Harry punched the floor angrily. "_Dammit_!"

"Harry, maybe we should…"

"No, I don't want to stop!' snapped Harry.

Remus frowned as Harry got to his feet. "We've been doing this for nearly two hours, if you're tired…"

"I'm not tired,' said Harry flatly, 'I'm _fine_."

Remus just watched as Harry jogged to his original starting point. He bounced on his feet, rolled his shoulders and shook his hands, trying to relax. His wand was still clutched tightly in his hand and Remus knew he'd taken too many knocks to the floor not to be sore. Remus's own left buttock was numb from the amount of times Harry had sent him to the floor.

Harry stood at the ready. "Okay, let's go."

"Harry, if I jinx you much more your mother's going to have me up for child abuse."

"You scared of my mother?' chuckled Harry.

Remus shifted uncomfortably. "No."

Harry snorted. "Come on, I haven't got all day! Curse me! If it helps, I'll tell Mum I forced you."

"I'd rather you didn't, she thinks I'm enough of a pansy already not catching that spider for her in the kitchen last week."

"Well, don't be a pansy now then! Curse me!"

"I'd really rather not."

"Remus, just get on with it!"

"Harry, you're tired, I'm tired, we've been at this for hours and…"

"Oh for Pete's sake! _Stupefy_!"

Remus only just managed to raise a shield in time. The force of the spell and the close proximity made him stagger backward, but he barely had time to recover as Harry continued to advance on him, fire curse after curse at him with a determined force.

"Harry… slow down… _Harry_…"

Harry wasn't listening. He was glaring at Remus as if he were Voldemort himself as he continued to throw jinxes at him. Remus continued to deflect them, hoping Harry would tire but he seemed to be running off something Remus did not know about. Wherever it was coming from, Remus had a bad feeling about it.

"Harry, wait…"

"_Impedimenta! Relashio! Diffindo! Reduc_-…"

"_Protego_!"

Harry's curse hit Remus's shield dead centre and ricochet right back at him, and before Harry could finish his final spell he had to duck low to avoid being hit. Taking the opportunity, Remus whipped his wand low, casting an invisible rope from it which wrapped itself around Harry's ankles, and with one hard yank Remus send Harry crashing backward to the floor letting silence fall once more.

Remus sighed, put his wand in his pocket and crossed over to Harry. He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his arms splayed out. "You alright?"

"I'm fine,' said Harry. He had said this so much lately it was almost his personal motto. Harry feared his gravestone would read _Here lies Harry Potter: don't worry, he's fine_.

"Come on, up you get."

"No,' sighed Harry, 'just leave me here to die."

"I'll buy you a pint,' said Remus with a smile, offering his hand.

Harry pursed his lips, hesitated and then took Remus's hand and let him help him up off the floor. "You always know just what to say."

Remus folded his arms over his chest. "_Now_ do you think we've had enough for today?"

"Yeah, I suppose.' He muttered grudgingly. 'How did I do?"

"You want me to evaluate it before or after you tried to blow me up?"

Harry bit his lip. "Sorry 'bout that."

Remus smiled. "It's alright, Harry, I'm no amateur. I'm more worried about you. That was some serious anger you were channeling just now."

"I was irritated."

"No, I've seen you irritated. That wasn't you."

Harry flinched. "You don't think I was…"

Remus shrugged. "Not intentionally, I don't doubt. But still, you need to be careful. The lines between you and Voldemort aren't something you want to be messing with, even if you do it accidentally. You need to focus a lot more."

"Yeah, I know,' said Harry. 'I'm trying Occlumency again. Sort of. You know, I try clearing my mind at night, but most of the time all I can think of lately is…'

Harry stopped and blushed.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"It's nothing."

"If it interferes with your ability to keep Voldemort out of your mind, then yes, it most certainly _is_ something."

Harry shifted uncomfortably under Remus's concerned stare. "It's…Ginny."

"Oh,' Remus's eyes widened slightly. '_Oh_. I see. Right."

"I don't even really mean to,' said Harry, 'its just sort of… I don't know… you know what I'm talking about, right? Don't you ever just randomly think about Tonks for no apparent reason at all?"

Remus smiled. "Yes, I'd be lying if I said I didn't. And I understand how it must be for you, being seventeen and all…'

An uncomfortable silence filled the room as Remus trailed off. Remus wasn't sure how much he was supposed to push Harry; the two of them had never really talked about the female species at all in this regard, and he didn't know how much Harry would be comfortable with. Harry felt uneasy bringing it up with Remus because he was an adult and Harry rarely went to adults with these sorts of problems. He normally would have gone to Ron, but seen as Ginny was Ron's little sister even the thought of discussing inappropriately timed sex dreams about his ex-girlfriend slash Ron's little sister made him feel sick. Harry could tell Remus seemed as unsure about this as Harry did, but surely if he was over-stepping the mark Remus would tell him to bugger off, wouldn't he? Now that the subject had been brought up, Harry found that he desperately wanted to talk about it.

"I just miss her a lot, is all,' said Harry finally. 'Thinking of her, remembering things we used to do together, it makes me feel better. I'm sick of feeling tired and depressed, and Ginny… I don't know. She makes everything seem alright again somehow."

"You shouldn't be ashamed of caring for someone so much,' said Remus. 'It's what gives you your strength, after all. You should stop fighting it and start embracing it."

Harry frowned. "It sounds so sappy."

"It is, but that doesn't make it any less true,' chuckled Remus. 'Do you want to know something really subversive? Love _is_ everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth living for, being brave for, risking everything for and the trouble is, if you don't risk everything, you risk even more."

"But is thinking about her for one moment's happiness worth the risk of her life?' asked Harry. He groaned, laughed and hit himself in the forehead. 'Why does God hate me?"

Remus smiled and shoved Harry playfully. Harry stumbled, laughed and shoved Remus back.

"Come on,' laughed Harry, 'lets go get that pint, hey? You're shouting, remember."

"Actually, here…' said Remus, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet, rifled through its folds and handed Harry a muggle ten pound note. 'Don't drink too much. We can't have the Boy Who Lived stumbling around in a vigorous state of intoxication, now can we?"

"You're not coming?"

"No, I think I'll stay here. I'm a little tired, what with my first shift happening tomorrow night and you cursing me all morning and, well… you know."

Harry quirked a black eyebrow. "So you're encouraging me to go into London by myself and drink alcohol?"

"I'm not your father; you don't need my permission,' said Remus simply. 'And no, I'm assuming you'll want to take Ron. I'm sure he'd love the chance to have a few drinks with you. I'd recommend Hermione too, but I feel her days of drinking alcohol are over for the next ten years."

"Nah, I don't want to bother them,' said Harry softly.

Remus knew why. Things had been tense the past few days between the three of them. Harry barely spoke to them and almost seemed to run from the room if either or both of them entered it. He only spoke to them if they spoke first. They seemed to be avoiding each other, and Remus couldn't for the life of him figure out why. He didn't feel it his business to press the issue, even though he desperately wanted to.

"Well, I'd really rather you not go by yourself."

"Who should I take then? Malfoy?"

Remus shrugged.

"I am _not_ taking Malfoy!' cried Harry.

"You need to be with someone at all times. Security in numbers."

"I'll be fine on my own,' insisted Harry. 'To be honest, I would prefer to go alone. Everyone here just seems… well…' he trailed off and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Remus pursed his lips. "It's not safe out there, especially for you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "When is it _ever_ safe, especially for me? I don't want to stay cooped up in here all the time and only go out when there's a fight going on. I'll go mad. And no-one wants to follow a madman into battle, now do they?"

"Harry…"

"If anything goes wrong I'll apparate home right away,' said Harry simply.

"No, I know you,' said Remus shaking his head, 'you won't be able to simply walk away if anything happens. You'll want to help."

"Remus, I promise, I'll come right home,' said Harry, holding up his right hand.

Remus folded his arms over his chest and surveyed Harry for a long moment. Harry just smiled at him with a lopsided grin and Remus found himself having flashbacks to when he was seventeen, and another young Potter with messy hair and glasses and a lopsided grin stood in front of him, invisibility cloak in one hand, trying to convince him to sneak down to Hogsmeade and try and steal some Firewhiskey from the Hogs Head.

After a long moment, he sighed. "Your mother is going to kill me."

"If it helps, tell her I cursed you,' smiled Harry. He waved the ten pound note, smiled in thanks and headed toward the door.

But he only made it a few steps when Lily came in, a large book open in her arms. Her hair was out today and hung around her face as she read, her brow knotted slightly in concentration. Harry felt the only gesture missing was her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth. She walked as if in a daydream and Harry had to step out of the way so she wouldn't collide with him. She brushed past his shoulder and looked up, startled.

"Oh, Harry. You scared me! What are you doing in the middle of the hallway?"

"Mum… we're in the kitchen."

Lily blinked and looked around. She laughed, genuinely surprised and apparently quite unable to figure out how she had gotten there. "Well, so we are. You two are done, are you?"

But Harry didn't answer. He just looked at her, and after a moment he closed the distance between them and enveloped her in a warm hug. Lily's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she soon cast the book aside and rubbed his back lovingly. Harry rested his chin on her shoulder, splayed his hands on her back and pulled her in tight. Lily ran her fingers up his back and through his hair, and Harry couldn't help but smile. Lily kissed his shoulder and patted his back again, and after another long moment Harry pulled back. He smiled down at her and without a word walked around her and out of the room.

After watching him go, Lily turned around and quirked an eyebrow at Remus. "Who was that and where is my son? You know, tall… shaggy hair… broods a lot…'

"Don't complain to me,' said Remus, sitting down with a groan.

"I'm not complaining, just curious,' said Lily. 'What's wrong with him?"

"Why would anything be wrong?"

"He was clingy. He's never clingy."

"God hates him,' smiled Remus.

"Still? You'd think after seventeen years he'd move on to someone else."

Remus smiled and stretched his legs out. His muscles would always tense and cramp before he transformed, and stretching was just part of his pre-shift ritual he had developed when he was a boy.

Lily sat down opposite him and watched him carefully. "Where's he going?"

"London."

"By _himself_?"

"Don't look at me like that! He's persuasive!' said Remus, arching his back.

Lily gave him a look. "He gave you the doe-eyes, did he?"

Remus suddenly became very interested in his shoelaces.

"Honestly, Remus! All those years James conned you into doing things! You would have thought you'd have learnt to tell when you're being hoodwinked by now."

Lily made to go after Harry, but something caught her wrist. She looked around as Remus pulled her back and sat her back down in her seat.

"Just leave him,' said Remus.

"It's not safe for him alone."

"That's what I told him, but I can tell him that until I'm blue in the face and he still won't listen to me if he doesn't want to. You know what Potters are like when they get an idea in their head. Trust me,' added Remus with a small laugh, 'I'm saving you a lot of trouble."

Lily frowned as Remus stretched his arms above his head. "I hate this. I hate that you know my own son better than I do – no offence."

"None taken. It's not your fault things turned out this way,' said Remus. 'To be honest, I'm not happy about it either. But don't worry; given time you'll be the one telling _us_ how to handle him."

Lily watched Remus as he continued to stretch. There were certain unassuming moments, like this one, where Lily was reminded just how lucky she was to have such an amazing friend, just one in the whole world. He was so wonderful to everyone, especially Harry, and she was grateful in ways words were just not adequate enough to express.

"I'm glad he has you, Remus,' she said softly.

Remus looked up at her and smiled. "I'm glad he has you too."

----------------

"Ron!"

Ginny leapt up from the sofa in surprise as her brother stepped out from the Gryffindor Common Room fireplace. He straightened up and smiled at her through a layer of soot, green flames flickering behind him.

"Hey, Gin,' he smiled, dusting himself off, 'bloody soot…why is it so dirty?"

"What are you doing here?' she demanded quickly, brushing soot away from his shoulders. 'What's happened? Is something wrong? Is it Mum?"

"Everything's fine! Keep your hair on!' laughed Ron. 'Just thought I'd drop by, you know. See what my favorite little sister's been up to."

Ginny gave him a look. "I'm your _only_ little sister."

"Oh yeah, so you are.' He laughed.

Without warning, Ginny grabbed him by the shoulders, pulled him close and wrapped her arms around his middle in a big bear-hug. Ron laughed softly in surprise and returned the hug, feeling concerned as she gripped him tightly and buried her face against his chest.

"Hey…' he said softly, rubbing her back, '… you alright?"

"Yes,' she said, softly. She didn't realize how much she had missed him until now. His presence had always been something she had taken for granted; the last time she had missed him this much had been when he had left for his first year at Hogwarts, leaving her behind.

Funny how things turned out.

She squeezed her eyes shut and held him for another long moment, but when she felt tears welling in her eyes she let him go and stepped away with a laugh. "So, er… how did you get here anyway? The Floo Network is meant to be shut down!"

"The Order has their own set-up,' muttered Ron, tapping his nose, 'you know, in case anything drastic happens and they need to get here quick. Don't worry, it's only accessible through Grimmauld Place,' he added quickly at her look of horror, 'and I had to practically beg Kingsley to open it for me."

He ruffled his red hair, sending black flakes into the air. He looked around the Common Room and paused, his smile falling. The room was relatively empty, students no doubt outside enjoying the first warm Saturday in months. Desks were covered with assorted essays, groups were sitting by the window chatting, or playing Exploding Snap, or reading Witch Weekly – all in all a typical, Hogwarts Saturday.

It was strange to be there. He couldn't help it; it was odd. He felt…big. Or maybe the room felt too small. He felt awkward, as if he should go stand in the corner where no-one would see him and question why he was there. He felt like a stranger, a rude stranger who had walked in off the street and just assumed it would be alright for them to be there.

Ginny looked at him, puzzled. "You alright?"

Ron blinked and looked down at her, the feeling evaporating. "What? Yeah, I'm right. What are you on about?"

"Right,' chuckled Ginny. 'Are you a bit sixes and sevens?"

"Don't be a nitwit,' he said, shoving her playfully.

Ginny punched him in the arm. "Come on, we can talk upstairs."

Wordlessly, Ron followed her toward the staircase. For a moment, he thought she was going to lead him up to her dormitory, but she took the stairs on the left and headed up towards the boys dorms.

"Do Mum and Dad know you're here?" asked Ginny over her shoulder.

"Not likely,' muttered Ron, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. 'They're far too caught up in trying to keep us all safe to notice us wandering about doing exactly the opposite. Not that this is life threatening, but you get the drift."

"You shouldn't just nick off without telling them, you know,' reprimanded Ginny. 'Especially after what happened with Charlie."

Ron looked at her in mock surprise. "Hermione, is that you?"

"Don't be an idiot."

"Oh, come on. It's the only thing I know how to do properly! I graduated from Twit school with full honors and…'

He trailed off and, once again, his smile fell. They had stopped at the very top of the stairs, out the front of a closed, wooden door. Ginny looked at him, puzzled. She followed his line of vision, to the door he was gazing at, and then looked back at him.

She frowned. "Are you sure you're alright?

"Yeah, just…' he paused and smiled. 'That's the seventh year boys' dorm."

"Yes, I know. So?"

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to speak. But finally he gave up, smiled and shrugged. "Nothing,' he muttered.

Ginny felt for him. At times like this, he must have missed being at Hogwarts like everyone else. Making the decision to stay behind with Harry would have been easy for him; Ginny knew Ron would follow Harry to the gates of Hell if he had to. But she also knew how much Ron had loved being at Hogwarts, and he would have missed it just as much as any of them; he would have regretted not having the chance to experience all the things he'd been looking forward to doing since he was eleven.

"We can go somewhere else if you want,' she said.

"No, this is fine, don't be stupid,' he chortled, as if she were insane.

Ginny smiled, rolled her eyes and he walked past her and opened the door inward, stepping in the room without announcing himself. She followed, right on his heels and saw him smile at the room.

It wasn't much bigger than his previous rooms in the Tower, but it looked more spacious from the small number of beds. According to Hermione, (Miss Walking Hogwarts: A History) the dormitories would magically allocate the appropriate number of beds in accordance with how many students it had to hold, and seeing as Ron and Harry weren't living there any more there were only three beds instead of five. Ron knew whose bed was who instantly. Seamus, who took five to eight trips to the loo during the night, was closest to the door. Neville, who liked to be enclosed in a corner where it was snug and private, was up against the wall to Ron's right. Dean, who liked the moonlight and the view over the grounds, was over by the window.

And it was only then did Ron realize that he and Ginny weren't the only ones in the room.

"Dean!' cried Ginny in surprise.

Dean Thomas was sitting on his bed, legs crossed with a sketch pad in his lap. He had a pencil in his hand, and he had been lazily sketching on the paper with slow, large, fluent motions. He had looked up as soon as the door had opened, his hand hovering just over the top left corner of the page with the tip of his lead pencil inches from the paper.

"Dean, I'm sorry! I didn't know you were in here,' said Ginny, her ears flushing red.

Dean smiled. "That's alright, I was just doodling anyway. Hey, Ron!" The dark boy put his sketch pad and pencil aside on the bed and got up to greet his old room-mate.

Ron grinned and shook Dean's outstretched hand warmly. "Dean, good to see you."

"Good to see you too, mate! How are things in the real world?"

"Very…real,' said Ron.

"Shocking,' laughed Dean. He looked down at Ginny and smiled at her nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets. 'Hey, Ginny."

Ginny blushed and ran a hand through her hair awkwardly. "Hello, Dean."

Ron arched his eyebrows as a tense silence filled the room. Ginny had put her hands in her back pockets and was looking down at her feet, her long red hair falling around her face curtaining it from view. Dean was looking at her as if he wanted to say something but was only just holding his tongue. Ron wasn't usually the fastest broom in the shed when it came to matters like this, but even he could feel the tension between them.

After another short, awkward moment, Dean shook himself and cleared his throat. "Well, er… I'll just clear off then…"

"Oh no, Dean, I didn't mean for you to leave,' said Ginny quickly.

"No, it's alright,' smiled Dean, gathering up his art equipment.

"But this is your dorm,' argued Ginny softly, her tone revealing her embarrassment, 'honestly, we can go elsewhere…"

"Ginny, really, its fine,' said Dean. 'I was meant to meet up with Seamus anyway. Ron, great to see you again. Tell Harry and Hermione I said 'hi', will you?"

"Will do, mate,' smiled Ron, shaking Dean's hand again. 'Good to see you."

Dean paused and looked at Ginny. "See you around, Ginny."

Ginny pursed her lips in a smile and nodded. "See you."

Dean gave her one last, quick look before walking out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft 'click'.

Ron looked at his sister, arching his eyebrows.

"What?' snapped Ginny defensively, squirming under his gaze.

"Cor! Awkward much?' he laughed.

"Shut up, it's not my fault,' said Ginny, flopping down on Neville's bed.

"I'm sorry? Who's the one who broke up with him and smashed his heart into a bazillion tiny little pieces?' he asked, sitting down on the edge of Dean's bed. 'Wasn't that you?"

Ginny blushed and sat back on the bed, crossing her legs. "You think I don't feel bad about that?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know, you tell me."

"How about instead I tell you to, once again, belt up about my love life which has nothing to do with you?' she asked irritably. 'How about that?"

"Suits me fine,' grinned Ron.

Ginny sighed and ran her fingers through her hair again. "So, spill it – are you here to check up on me?"

Ron snorted. "Why the bleeding hell would I want to do that?"

"Because you needn't bother, you know.' Continued Ginny irritably. 'Bill does a bang-up job enough trying to get into my personal affairs, and I won't put up with you trying to do it either!"

"Well, can you blame him? After what happened to Charlie…'

Ron trailed off and there was another awkward pause. Ginny slouched, obviously not having considered Bill's actions as a way to compensate for his supposed lack of responsibility toward Charlie.

"Besides,' said Ron after a long moment, 'as if I'd _want_ to. I've got enough bollocks to worry about without adding you and your pissy moods to the mix. Just don't go snogging any boys and you and me will get along fine."

"I don't just go around with my lips hanging out, hoping to run into some boy, you know!' laughed Ginny.

"Yeah, well, make sure you don't or I mean it – you…me…issues."

Ginny laughed and shifted her position. "So, you've been getting my letters?"

Ron nodded. "Sure have. Pig things he's the best thing since Chocolate Frogs, delivering all this mail."

"Yes, I've seen him when he's come back from seeing you,' giggled Ginny, 'he thinks he's the absolute bees knees, fluffing his feathers out and all. He gets really chuffed with himself!"

"Yeah, he would,' grumbled Ron disapprovingly, 'poncy little git, he is."

Ginny hugged her knees to her chest. "So, how's everyone?"

"As good as they can be, I guess. Mum's fine, recovering really well. They reckon cause of her age and the force Charlie was using…' Another pause. Ron shivered and smiled. 'Dad's fine, Gred and Forge are fine, Bill's still in a right state as you know, but Fleur seems to be keeping him relatively sane."

"He's blaming himself?"

"Well, you would _know_ if you'd just bloody speak to him once in a while."

"I will.' she muttered, feeling guilty again. But, didn't he… I mean, wasn't Charlie…"

"Acting weird?' asked Ron, and Ginny nodded. 'Most of the time he was fine! Totally off his trolley some days, and others he could be so far down in the dumps it's a wonder he doesn't stink like garbage. He'd have massive mood swings too."

"And no-one thought that was strange?' demanded Ginny. 'Charlie's the happiest bloke in the entire world!"

"Yeah, but Mum kept talking about something called 'Bipolar',' said Ron. 'Apparently you can get it in times of stress – makes people go a bit loopy. Some people manage it alright, but others…' he trailed off and shrugged. 'Personally, I thought he was fine; probably just missing his Dragons or he's had too much sun or something. Charlie's not the type to catch anything, really."

"You can't really blame yourselves though,' said Ginny softly, 'smarter wizards have been fooled before."

"Yeah,' smiled Ron wryly, 'still doesn't make it any better."

Ginny rubber her arms. She had only found out about Charlie when Professor McGonagall had brought her back to her office after Transfiguration three mornings ago to find her father sitting there, looking very haggard. She'd almost collapsed when she'd heard the news about Charlie and her mother and had demanded to come home, but her father had not let her, apparently under her mother's request. Ginny had been furious at them all, and the only one she had spoken to since then had been Ron, despite Bill's many attempts to corner her and 'talk' after Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Pushing these thoughts aside, she crossed her legs. "So, how's…everyone else?"

Ron looked at her for a long moment, knowing exactly what she was getting at. "Everyone's fine, don't you worry about him."

"It's hard not to,' she muttered softly. 'I hear about attacks in the paper and I'm always afraid I'll see his name on the front page accompanied with the words '_valiant death'_.' She paused and bit her lip. 'Is he alright?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"The truth, if you wouldn't mind.'

Ron pursed his lips, wondering how much he should tell her. He didn't want to upset her, but he knew that if he lied she would know and would get upset anyway. It wasn't any of his business; she had made that much clear. Why were women so complicated?

He sighed. "He tried to leave the other day."

Ginny's eyebrows rose. "Leave as in, _leave_ leave?"

Ron shrugged.

Ginny let out a 'ha' of amazement. She frowned and looked at her brother in amazement, surprised by his calm attitude toward such a serious issue. "So…what happened?"

"Well, you don't think I was just gonna let him walk out the door, do you?' said Ron.

"No, but…' she trailed off, shocked that Harry had gotten to such a point.

"Look, he was just having a bad day, is all.' Said Ron. 'He was just going through some stuff and it all became too much for him. He's not completely alright now, but he's not ready to nick off suddenly without a word to anyone either."

Ginny sighed, frustrated. "Merlin! I just wish I could…"

"Be there?' finished Ron. 'Trust me, being _here_ is the better place right now."

"How can it be better to be here when everything's happening there? Mum being tortured… Charlie under Imperious… Harry's stressed to breaking point…" asked Ginny.

"Harry's always stressed, it's nothing new,' Ron smirked.

Ginny did not look amused.

Ron sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking as if he wanted to do anything else but this with her right now.

"Two reasons,' he said, fixing her with a look that reminded her so much of their father she flinched. 'You're no idiot. You know we all want each other safe and you're no different. Hogwarts is still…'

"The safest place for me to be, yeah, I've heard this song before,' finished Ginny flatly. 'What's the second reason?"

Ron exhaled through his nose and leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Look, I don't know much about what happened between you and Harry… he doesn't want to tell me and I don't feel right asking… but I _do_ know that breaking up with you was very hard on him. And the only reason it would hit him so hard is because he cares about you so much. If anything happened to you…' he paused and ran a hand through his hair. 'Harry's an amazing person, but he is only human, and there is only so much he can handle all at once. Now don't take this the wrong way, but you being around puts stress on him. He'll worry that he can't keep you safe, and he'll worry even more that _that_ worry will distract him. Don't you see? It's because he wants you there so much that he _doesn't_ want you there. You being here… we know you're okay. It's important for us all to know that; to be sure of that. We're not sure of much else anymore."

Ginny pursed her lips. "That's supposed to make me feel better, is it?"

"You wanted the truth,' said Ron simply. 'Not my fault you can't handle it."

"Oh, I can handle it,' she said. And then another thought occurred to her. 'You're really worried about him, aren't you."

Ron looked at his feet and shrugged. "Yeah, well…you know…"

Ginny smiled at him adoringly. Sometimes he really was the sweetest of the bunch.

"Is _this_ what you came all this way for? To have a talk with me?"

"Of course not,' he muttered. His ears had gone red.

"Why don't you talk to Hermione about it then?"

"Oh, no. I, er…' he paused and smiled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, 'I don't want to bother her with all this. She's got enough on her plate as it is."

"I'm sure she has enough time to listen to her own boyfriend,' giggled Ginny. 'How are things between the two of you?"

"They're…' he paused, trying to find the right word, '…shaky."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "Shaky? Are you serious?"

Ron sighed and flopped back onto the bed. "I wish I wasn't."

"How can things be even in the vicinity of 'shaky'? You've only been together for, what… five months now?"

He cleared his throat.

Ginny gave him a look. "I beg your pardon… '_seven years'_.' She said, quoting with her fingers.

Ron smiled, satisfied.

"The point is the two of you have been together forever! You can't be shaky! You're… you're unshakable!"

"That's nice and… disgustingly mushy of you to say,' cringed Ron.

"You're not going to break up, are you?' she asked, terrified. She couldn't stand it if they broke up. Not after all they'd been through to get where they were.

"Are you _daft_?' laughed Ron, sitting up. 'It took me seven years to get her! You really think I'm going to throw away the best thing of my life just like that?'

Ginny blinked at his outburst.

Realizing what he had just said, Ron blushed and lay back down. "I mean…no, we're not breaking up. Don't be stupid. We're just a bit…strained at the moment."

"Why? Got the seven year itch?"

"No, its nothing like that. We're just…finding it hard to spend time together. You know, real time together – just the two of us,' he muttered. 'We're just so busy all of a sudden, what with this war and trying to look out for Harry and Hermione's gone mental with all these potions she's brewing and she's always got her head stuck in three books at once, and I'm always practicing dueling with Harry. It's not intentional; we're not avoiding each other or anything. Or…maybe we are in a way," he added thoughtfully, as if the thought had never struck him before.

Ginny just looked at him, wishing she could help but at a loss as to how.

Ron shrugged and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. He lifted up his left hand and began picking at his palm. "Anyway, I don't really want to talk about this – especially with you. Change the subject."

"To what?"

"Something that has nothing to do with the war or relationships."

Ginny smiled and lay down on the bed on her side, propping her head up in the heel of her hand. "I got ten points taken from Gryffindor yesterday."

"You twat! Why? What'd you do?"

"Levitated a pitcher of Pumpkin Juice into Blaise Zabini's lap."

Ron grinned over at her. "That's my girl."

-----------------

Molly shifted against the pillows behind her and took another sip of her tea. The afternoon breeze was blowing in gently through the open window and on any other occasion she knew she could have drifted right off to sleep.

But not today.

Today she was fidgety and restless and, if she was quite frank, a little irritated. Being in bed was the last place she wanted to be. Molly wasn't the type to sit back and put her feet up, she never had been. Growing up with two older brothers, especially her trouble-making brothers, not to mention raising seven children, all a mere two years apart, she had always been on her toes. It was almost as if she had forgotten how to relax. There was just so much going on and she needed to be up doing things, not sitting in bed. But, Arthur was insistent. It wasn't often he was so insistent; he was normally a 'yes, dear' and a 'if you say so, dear' sort of man, bless his heart, but what had happened to her seemed to have really shaken him up, and he was firmly taking the reins, and he insisted adamantly and without room for argument that she rest. And so she was.

She smoothed the bed covers out that lay over her lap and thought of Arthur. The last time she had seen him this stressed was the night Bill was attacked by Fenrir Greyback. Seeing Bill, her eldest yet still her baby, lying in that hospital bed, his face red and bloody against the pure white sheets… she still had nightmares about it, and she knew Arthur was just the same. And this war was stressful enough without having to imagine what Charlie had been through. She could tell Arthur was devastated, but he was determined not to talk about how he was feeling and focus on her.

_Don't worry about me_, he would say. _I'm not the one who was tortured!_

_He could have killed you!_ She would argue. _And Bill nearly had his skull cracked open! I'm not the only one in this, Arthur!_

And people say her children got their stubbornness from _her_. If only they could see the side of Arthur that she saw.

Molly put her head in her hands and sighed. This business with Charlie had devastated their entire family. Bill was holding himself personally responsible and refused to let the notion that he should have noticed something amiss earlier go. Fred and George were constantly hovering around her door, quite literally, practically demanding blood samples from anyone who wanted to see her to make sure it was safe for them to do so. Percy was yet to get back into contact with them (Arthur had sent him a memo at work bringing him up to speed). Ron was hard to read; he was torn between his loyalty toward his family and his loyalty to Harry and Hermione, but Molly could tell he was just as concerned as all his other brothers, and Ginny… well, from what Arthur and Bill had told her, Ginny was an emotional wreck when she had found out, but her devastation was now sharing room space with anger and annoyance for not being allowed to come home, and so now, despite Bill's many attempts, she refused to speak to anyone but Ron. If Molly could have had anything right then, it would be all seven of her children lying in her bed with her like they used to when they were little, safe and warm and whole and peaceful with Arthur standing in the doorway looking on, a smile on his face. Molly looked up, ready to imagine seeing Arthur standing in the doorway then.

But she was surprised when she saw that Charlie was actually already standing there.

She hadn't seen him since he had attacked her. They hadn't been kept apart on purpose; Charlie had not come out of his room since, and Molly had been forced to bed rest, not that she hadn't tried numerous times to see him. No-one had seen him but Arthur until now. He looked dreadful; his eyes were red, his skin was pale and there was a soft copper tinge growing along his jaw. His shoulders were hunched and he looked, for the first time in his entire life, defeated. Molly felt her heart break just looking at him.

Without a word, Charlie came into the room and sat himself down in what Molly always associated as 'Arthur's chair'. He put his knees together and placed his hands in his lap and looked very much like he did when he was four and was caught playing with geckos and lizards in the back garden when he was supposed to be practicing his handwriting. Molly just looked at him; her hand flinched, watching to reach out and stroke his face, to push the hair out of his eyes.

Charlie said nothing, just bowed his head.

A long silence passed, neither Weasley saying anything. Molly sat perfectly still, watching her son. He didn't look at her at all. Molly wasn't offended. He obviously hadn't come in here with the intention of talking. She got the feeling that he had managed to sneak out from under his father's nose and had just come in here to check on her; just to sit with her and see with his own eyes that she was alright. She knew that he would talk when he was ready.

"You're looking peaky, darling,' she said softly.

Charlie didn't respond.

Molly pursed her lips. "Has your father been bringing you proper food? Because I know all you have to do is flash him those big blue eyes of yours and he'll feed you chocolate frogs for the rest of your life."

Still, Charlie was silent. Molly couldn't remember the last time she had seen him like this, if ever at all. He was one of the most loud, happy boys she knew next to Fred and George; she wasn't used to this depression or this quiet. He was the 'Mummy's boy' of the family, and the two of them got along so well you could almost call them friends more than mother and son.

This is what made it so hard.

"Well, not to worry,' said Molly in a cheery tone, 'I'll be back on my feet in no time and I'll cook you a good proper meal. Better than that food you eat back in Romania, I'm sure. All those beans, honestly! Nothing beats a mother's cooking, I say…"

"How can you do this?'

Molly blinked and shut her mouth. She looked at the top of Charlie's head which was still bowed. "How can I do what, dear?"

"How can you sit there and talk to me as if nothings happened?' he said. His voice was croaky as if he hadn't used it in days. If Molly knew him well enough, she would be everything she owned that he probably hadn't. 'How can you talk to me at all?"

"Oh, Charlie, sweetheart…"

"I must have thought of a thousand different things to say to you…' he trailed off and finally looked up; his blue eyes were red with fatigue and emotion. 'But there's nothing I can say, is there? What I did… oh God, what I _did_…"

"Charlie, it's all right…"

"_No_, Mum it _isn't_ all right!' he said, his voice breaking. 'You're in this bed because of me! When I think of what I… that it's by my hand…'

Molly's bottom lip quivered. "Charlie…"

"You're going to make excuses?' said Charlie, frowning at her. 'Mum, I tried to _kill_ you!"

"That wasn't you.' said Molly firmly.

"How can you know that?' asked Charlie desperately. 'Something inside me was forced to the surface. Something raw and powerful, something…' He trailed off and looked out the window hopelessly.

Molly's fingers ached to run through his hair. "Do you want to kill me?"

Charlie's head snapped around so fast it cracked. "What? Merlin's pants, Mum, _no_! Of _course_ not!"

"It wasn't something inside you, Charlie,' said Molly softly, 'it was something that was done to you."

Charlie slumped forward, rested his elbows on the edge of the bed and rested his forehead in the heels of his hands. His hair fell around his knuckles. It was getting far too long. It needed a trim.

"I don't know what kind of man I am anymore." He said softly.

"Well, I do,' said Molly, 'you're a _good_ man."

"How can you say that?' he said, looking up again. 'I tortured you. I _tortured_ you! I could have killed you! If Bill hadn't stunned me I probably…' he paused and swallowed. 'I fired a killing curse at Dad. My own father! God knows what else I've done and can't remember… how many people I might have hurt, or worse!"

His shoulders were heaving and he was gasping softly for breath, as if he'd just run to the end of the street and back. Molly reached out, finally, and rubbed his shoulder soothingly. He was very tense.

"You didn't do those things, Charlie,' she repeated, 'you were being used."

"Like a brainless dolt,' he snapped angrily. 'Like a puppet! It shouldn't happen to me. Aren't I stronger than that? I should be able to fight off the Imperious Curse! I just… I feel so _weak_, Mum. Why wasn't I able to fight it? Why didn't I try and stop myself?"

"It takes a lot of practice to fight off…"

"Harry can do it! He could do it when he was only fourteen!"

"Harry's different. He was subjected to it over and over by a Death Eater until he could fight it off. You've never had it used on you before, and you were weak and injured from that fight. You were caught at a vulnerable moment, Charlie. You are _not_ weak."

Charlie looked into her face, his gaze intense. She could see the conflict within him, the want to believe her so badly, yet the guilt almost too deep to climb out from.

He looked down at his hands. "I see faces in my dreams. People I don't even know… screaming. What if I hurt them? What if they're dead, and what if it's because of me? I can't take this anymore, Mum. There's this feeling in my gut, and it twists and twists into knots and I feel like I'm going to be sick. I'm just… Mum, I'm so sorry…Oh God, I'm so _sorry_…"

"Shhh, come here…'

Charlie put his head in his arms and cried. Molly leant forward and ran her hands over his back, her fingers through his hair, whispering to him softly as he sobbed into the bedcovers.

----------------

Harry was quickly coming to hate nice days.

He couldn't remember the last time he had just gone outside for a walk and enjoyed the weather. It seemed a cruel irony that there could be such sunny days during such dark times. It was almost as if they mocked him, knowing how glorious they were and how he could not enjoy them. Harry was sure Mother Nature got some sick, perverted pleasure out of it.

But not today.

No, today _he_ was the one who was mocking _them_. Today he would take advantage of every second he was outside, the sun baring down on him, warming his shoulders and his back, reigniting his core.

There were lots of people out today at the local shopping plaza. Harry had chosen this place to come for this very reason; the more people there were, the less chance there was of him being recognized. If he kept his head down and didn't take off the black baseball cap Lily had bought for him for just this purpose, he should be alright. He couldn't help but smile. Anyone would think he were some famous Hollywood celebrity trying to hide from the paparazzi. Quite frankly, if it came between the paparazzi and death eaters, he knew which one he would prefer. Photo's beat death any day of the week.

Then again, he had never really enjoyed getting his picture taken.

Harry pushed these thoughts out of his mind, adjusted his glasses and took another bite of his pastry as he looked around. Like him, people seemed to have been drawn out in droves by the warm weather. There were businessmen in suits, running with a briefcase in one hand and a coffee in the other, mothers groups with prams and babies on their hips as they chatted away and laughed, groups of teenagers enjoying a weekend off school, elderly people, kids, adults… so many people, and all of them completely oblivious to the war that was happening right under their noses. Harry both pitied and envied them.

Stepping around someone handing out leaflets, Harry walked a short distance and sat himself down on an empty park bench. The hum of talk and cars in the distance filled the air, punctuated only by a nearby group of Christian preachers who were either advertising their church to the public, handing out leaflets or just generally trying to engage people in conversation. Some people would stop and listen politely to what they had to say, most would ignore them or pretend they couldn't hear them as they rushed past. Harry sympathized with them; he knew how frustrating it could be to try and get people to hear what it was you had to say when they didn't want to, even if God _was_ on your side.

_Is God on _my_ side?_ He wondered as he took another bite of his pasty. He snorted and shook his head. _Not ruddy likely_.

Not that he cared all that much. He had his friends on his side, no matter how angry with him they were. It was rather comforting in a depressing kind of way; to know that even if they were plain furious with each other or if they were fighting, or if they weren't talking at all … when it came down to it, they would be standing side by side. If there was anything left Harry was sure of, it was that. He suddenly pictured himself lying in bed, an old man at the end of his days, and Ron and Hermione on either side of him, smiling down at him, both as ancient and lined and grey as him, telling him it would be alright, and that they'd see him soon. The thought gave Harry a warm feeling.

Harry looked up and admired the masses of people pass him by. All of them were smiling; young couples holding hands, old friends laughing with each other, and everyone in-between. It was nice to see happy people for a change; genuinely happy people without anything on their minds. The Order, his Mum, Remus, Ron and Hermione… they all put on brave faces, but Harry knew what they looked like when they were _really_ happy, and it was sad that he hadn't seen it for a while.

"Good afternoon!"

Harry blinked and looked up at a young, long haired brunette standing over him, a smile on her pretty face. She couldn't have been barely a year or two older than him. "Er… hello."

"Mind if I sit down?"

Realizing he was hogging most of the bench, Harry quickly shifted over. She smiled in thanks and sat down with a tired sigh of someone who had been on her feet quite a while and was relieved to be off them.

She kicked her sandals off and crossed her legs up on the bench with a happy sigh. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Sure is."

"Not many people are stopping to appreciate it though, are they?' she chuckled, nodding toward the crowd.

Harry shrugged. "People have lives.'

She nodded and rolled her shoulders, stretching. Harry watched her out of the corner of her eye. Her hair was long and layered, falling over her shoulders and halfway down her back. It looked very soft indeed, and it reminded him of Ginny. Her hair had been very long last time he had seen her. He hastily pushed Ginny out of his head and watched as the girl laid a bundle of papers in her lap and arch her back, loosening her muscles.

Harry couldn't help but smile a little. "How's it going?"

She looked around at him. "Sorry?"

"The pamphlets,' he said, gesturing to the papers in her lap, 'you're one of those Christian people, aren't you?"

"Oh, yes,' she laughed, picking a colourful pamphlet out of her pile and examining it. 'Yes, I am. And yes, thank you, it's going alright. Some people just don't want to give you even a look of recognition though, you know? Think you're going to whip out a bible and start bashing them around the head with it."

She laughed again. Harry liked her laugh. It was contagious.

"Don't you ever just want to give up though?' asked Harry. 'I mean, it's obvious most people couldn't give a toss about what you have to say… no offence…"

"None taken."

"So why keep doing it? You've been here for hours, I bet."

She shrugged and rubbed her bare shins. "I love God, and I want to talk to people about him. I don't get tired so much; I'm used to people walking around us, trying to pretend they can't hear us. Some of my friends though, they're so determined to save people; it's like their purpose in life, but me? I just want to talk about it to anyone who will listen. I'm passionate about God, and I know that given the chance other people could be too. And really,' she added with a giggle, 'when you think about it, it's no different than someone being totally in love with Manchester United and parading around waving a red and white jersey in the air, trying to get people to join, now is it?"

Harry snorted. "No. S'pose not."

"But yes, sometimes it can be frustrating,' she nodded, leaning an elbow on the back of the bench, 'I mean, I'm not asking you to fall to your knees and pray for salvation, but is it too much to ask you to just listen? Know what I mean?"

"Yeah,' nodded Harry, 'I know what you mean."

She smiled, unfolded the pamphlet and read over it idly.

Harry considered her. "But… if it's so hard… why keep doing it? Why not just give up and go home?"

"Because I believe in it,' she said simply. 'Even if no-one else does, I do, and that's enough for me."

Harry looked at her long after she looked away. Her words echoed in his head like a church bell; he felt winded by them. He'd had that attitude just a few months ago. Where had it gone?

After a long moment she looked back around at him. _Really_ looked at him. Harry just watched her study his face, as if she were looking for something. He was glad the hat was covering his scar; he didn't need to be telling her where he had got it, even if it was the old 'from the accident my parents were killed in' lie he used around muggles.

She frowned slightly, curious. "Are you alright? You look a little… sad."

"I'm fine,' he said automatically. 'It's just been a rough couple of… days."

"Not to sound all cliché and predictable, but you know, if you ever need to offload and vent, God is always listening. And the best thing about him being up there? You don't have to look him in the eye."

Harry smiled. "Sorry, but I don't believe in God."

He expected her to frown or scowl in offence, or throw a pamphlet in his face and storm off, but she did neither of these things. In fact, her smile only grew.

"That doesn't matter,' she said kindly, 'he believes in you."

Harry watched as she gave him one last smile, slipped her sandals back on, got up and disappeared off into the crowd. He sat there, dumbstruck again by her words. Suckerpunch words, that's what she had.

Filled with a sudden impulse to go home, Harry got up, finished the rest of his pastry and jogged to the nearest secluded area to apparate. He was back in his room at Grimmauld Place instantly, and without pausing he ran from his room, out into the hallway, up a flight of stairs and barged into Hermione's study without even stopping to knock.

As soon as the door banged open and Harry stumbled in, Ron and Hermione looked up. Harry straightened up, completely disheveled and looked at them. Hermione was sitting at her desk, as usual, writing something and Ron was standing over her, reading over her shoulder.

And after a long pause, Ron burst out laughing.

"Don't be a twit, Ron!' snapped Hermione, slapping him in the stomach. But Ron just threw his head back and laughed some more.

Harry laughed as well. "Sorry, I know… shoulda knocked…"

"Or stopped to actually open the door, perhaps?' suggested Hermione irritably.

"What's the rush?' chortled Ron, clapping Harry on the back. 'You look like V-Voldemort himself is on your tail."

"He isn't, is he?' asked Hermione, looking at him in concern.

Harry shook his head.

"An attack somewhere?"

Another shake.

"You've found the last Horcrux?"

Another shake.

Hermione sighed. "Well, what's the emergency then? Why are you breaking down my door? Where have you been? And why are you wearing that hat?"

"No reason, really,' said Harry softly. Ron was looking at him in concern. Hermione was looking at him the way she had been looking at him for days now; with irritation. Harry shifted uncomfortably under their stares. 'I just… there was this… and I just wanted to…'

He trailed off and looked down at his feet. Saying 'I just wanted to be in the same room as my two best friends' sounded ridiculous even in his head, let alone out loud.

Ron cleared his throat, put a hand on Harry's shoulder and steered him out of the room. Once they were out in the hallway, out of earshot, Ron folded his arms over his chest and surveyed Harry carefully.

"You sure you're alright?' he asked in a low voice. 'Not that I don't love seeing you make a right prat of yourself falling through doorways and walking into things and all, but you've just been a bit… you know…"

"Yeah, I know,' said Harry. 'Don't worry though, I'm…"

"… fine, yeah,' laughed Ron softly, 'we got the concept, mate."

Harry blew air out through his lips and looked at the wall, imagining Hermione still sitting at her desk, shoulders hunched and tight as she scribbled down whatever it was she wrote now adays.

"How long do you think she can stay mad at me?"

Ron snorted. "Well, according to Bill, average for a bird is two weeks, but this _is_ Hermione, so…'

Harry frowned. "Bugger. Picked the wrong girl to tick off, eh?"

"Maybe you could go talk to her?' suggested Ron.

"Think I haven't tried?"

"Yeah, but it was all small talk, and lame jokes, and bollocks promises not to tick her off again which we all know you will.' smiled Ron. 'Do you even get _why_ she's mad at you?"

"She thinks I'm an idiot for telling her I'm a Horcrux."

"Firstly, you're not a sodding Horcrux you twit, so shut up before I belt you, and secondly, no, that's only half of it."

"What's the other half then?"

"She thinks you don't appreciate her,' said Ron softly.

Harry frowned. "She _told_ you this?"

Ron shrugged.

"How could she ever think that?"

"How would I know?' said Ron. 'I wasn't there when it happened. But you want to fix this? You need to address that before anything else. You really hurt her feelings, you know."

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "How come you haven't belted me in her defense then?"

"It's a daily struggle, but I get by."

Harry sniffed a laugh and Ron punched him playfully in the arm.

"Go on, get down on your knees if you have to; just end this, will you? Being in the middle rightly sucks."

"Now you know how _I_ feel when you two fight,' said Harry.

"Yeah, but we fight all the time, its nothing unusual. You and her never fight.' Said Ron.

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at Ron, his expression begging him to do it for him instead. Ron said nothing, just arched his eyebrows in a 'no way, you're on your own' kind of way and just jerked his head at the door of the study. Harry sighed, drew himself up and walked back into the room.

As he had imagined, Hermione was still at the desk, hunched over. Harry was not really that surprised that the entire picture reminded him very much of McGonagall at her desk during Transfiguration, grading essays from another class or taking notes of her own for later on. He wondered if Hermione would ever take McGonagall's place one day; she was certainly good enough to be a Professor. Harry knew, without a doubt, that Hermione could do anything she wanted to.

He looked at Ron; he sat down at the piano and jabbed a finger at Hermione, giving Harry a look. Harry pursed his lips and gathered himself together.

"Hermione,' he said softly, approaching her hesitantly, 'I, er… wanted to, you know, thank you for all the research you've been doing to find the, er… last Horcrux… because I know how, er… how not fun it is to read about, you know… Horcrux-y stuff."

Without looking up or breaking her flow of writing, Hermione sighed. "Bollocks."

Harry blinked. He looked around at Ron, who just smiled and shrugged. He looked back around at Hermione; she looked up at him, her eyes hard for a moment, but after a second the corner of her mouth curled upward ever so slightly.

And as quickly as it had some, the smirk was gone from her face and she was back to her work.

"Harry?"

Lily poked her head in the door. Her green eyes locked on him immediately.

He nodded. "Yes, I'm home."

"We need to talk."

"I don't suppose this is about happy squirrels?"

"Death Eaters."

Harry sighed. "That was my next guess."

With a last smile at Hermione, Harry followed his mother out of the room, shoving Ron playfully as he passed.

Ron ran his fingers across the ivory keys as he looked at Hermione. "Is it just me, or did it get a bit warmer in here?"

"I didn't notice anything,' she said stiffly.

"He's trying."

Hermione sighed and put her quill down. She looked at him across the room. "Why do you think I've been holding this grudge?"

"Because you're a female, and you like to make us blokes feel as guilty as possible for as long as possible for the smallest reason in the universe?"

"Aside from that,' she snapped playfully. 'I want him to try. I want him to want to fight again. He wants me to talk to him? Good. I want him to be motivated. And it's working. So I'll keep this up for as long as I can."

Ron looked doubtful. "He thinks you hate him."

Hermione's eyes narrowed with regret. "I'm mad at him, I don't hate him. I just think he's being an idiot, and the sooner he realizes that he is and gets over himself the better."

"You're very sneaky and vindictive,' said Ron, impressed, 'I never knew this about you. It's very alluring… in a scary sort of way."

"You should write a book, Weasley," drawled a voice, "'How_ to Offend Women in Five Syllables or Less'_."

Ron rolled his eyes and sighed. "Push off, Malfoy, no-one asked you."

Draco, who had walked into the room without knocking or pausing, ignored Ron and walked right up to Hermione. "May I have a word with you?"

Hermione blinked up at him, surprised. "Uh… yes, alright."

"_Alone_,' he said, looking pointedly at Ron over his shoulder.

"It's alright, Ron,' said Hermione quickly as Ron leapt to his feet, ready to retort angrily at Draco. 'We shouldn't be that long. I'm getting rather peckish, actually. Would you mind making me a ham and salad sandwich?"

Ron clenched his fists and glared at Draco, who was giving him a smug smirk. He looked at Hermione, who just arched an eyebrow.

Reluctantly, he headed out of the room.

"And I'll have a sugar-free, vanilla, non-fat cappuccino, thanks, Weasley,' called Draco.

Ron said nothing, just paused in the doorway, took a deep breath and continued out of the room.

Draco smirked to himself, satisfied in his daily 'rile up Weasley' quota, and turned around to face Hermione. She was glaring up at him, quill tip hovering millimeters from the parchment.

Draco's smirk fell.

"What do you want, Malfoy?' asked Hermione, going back to her notes.

Draco ran the tips of his fingers lightly across the wooden desk. They hadn't really spoken much since 'that night', and despite him being on the receiving end of her drunk antics, he felt suddenly a little embarrassed to be alone with her again. But she wasn't looking at him, just writing, and it helped a little.

He cleared his throat. "I hear you are very adept in conjuring blue flames."

"Malfoy, I'm adapt in conjuring anything your mind can think of, do keep up."

"Yes, well, modesty aside…' he said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes?"

He exhaled slowly through his nose. "I was wondering if… perhaps… you could teach me."

Hermione looked up at him. Draco shifted subtlety.

"Teach you?"

"Yes."

"How to summon a blue flame?"

"_Yes_."

"You want _me_ to teach you?"

Draco sighed. "Granger, for such a supposedly brilliant girl you can be very slow sometimes. Please don't make me ask you again."

Hermione frowned. "Malfoy, how am I going to teach you anything? You don't have a wand."

"I want to learn how to do it without a wand."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons."

She surveyed him suspiciously. "Well, the spell is simple enough, but wandless magic is a lot harder to control…"

"Yes, I know all this,' he said impatiently, his nerve running out, 'will you teach me or not?"

Hermione considered him. He looked impatient and eager and nervous and, if she were honest, the vindictive part of her, as Ron had put it earlier, would love to just sit there and watch him squirm. But she realized how much it would have taken for him to come to her and ask her this, and she just had to know…

"Why me?' she asked. 'Why not ask Tonks?"

"I do not wish to discuss matters of magic with Nymphadora until she returns my wand to me,' he said matter-of-factly. 'Besides, she's clumsy, and I fear she will set me on fire."

Hermione snorted. She couldn't help it.

She got to her feet. "Alright, I'll teach you. Here, move over, we need some room…"

Grabbing him by the elbow, she pulled him into the largest space in the room and drew her wand. She felt him flinch, but wasn't exactly sure if this was because she had a wand and he didn't, or if it was because she had touched him. He found his own space, a little away from her and took slow, even breaths, apparently preparing himself. He closed his eyes and she took the opportunity to really look at him.

He really didn't look like the same person anymore. His physical features had changed; more defined and sharp with maturity, and softer and easier to look at from such a humble lifestyle he seemed to be growing accustomed to, albeit reluctantly. His personality seemed to have changed somewhat also. Not that he wasn't as smug, irritating and snobby as always, but if you looked at the person he was just twelve months ago and looked at him now, you could definitely see the difference. Hermione had no doubt that this change was a mixture of his experience with the Death Eaters and Tonks's influence.

"So, listen, Malfoy,' said Hermione, 'before we begin, I just wanted to say… well, that is, I wanted to…'

"Why Granger, I don't think I've ever seen you so inarticulate,' smirked Draco. 'Not to worry, I'm quite used to my looks reducing people to piles of speechless goo. I hear a nice lie down helps. "

Hermione gave him a look. "What I'm _trying_ to say is that, about the other night…"

Draco tensed. "What about it?"

"Well, I just wanted to… that is, what you did, I didn't… I never got the chance to say, well…"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you are on about,' sighed Draco, 'no doubt it's riveting. But do you think we could get on with this? Weasley's sure to be back with my cappuccino any moment."

Draco quirked an eyebrow at her, and Hermione understood.

She smiled and nodded. "Alright, well, first of all…"

---------------

No matter the season, it was always colder down by the lake.

Hence why Ginny could not understand why there was not a soul around. The days were warm, and most students enjoyed a nice cool breeze after spending an entire day indoors. The past few days, the Lake had been 'the place to come', and that's all there was to it. But today, as Ginny say on the grass just up from the muddy bank, feet bare and hair blowing softly in the wind as she gazed out onto the horizon, she found herself to be quite alone.

_Story of my life_, she thought miserably.

She ran a hand through her hair and sighed irritably. This had been her mood for almost a whole week (or, if you wanted to get technical, since the day she had got on the Hogwarts Express back on September 1st) and she was quite well and truly sick of it. She knew how silly she was, being angry with everyone and everything, but she couldn't help herself. Life was dismal at the moment, and she wanted to brood all the time.

Wasn't she entitled to a little teenage angst after all? Her whole family was fighting for a cause they believed in, that _she_ believed in, and _fiercely_; but they had ostracized her. Her mother had been tortured and she wasn't allowed home, for even five minutes, just to see her and hold her hand. No, she was stuck here, banished to this castle 'for her own good'. How could anyone not be upset about something like that?

Ginny knew she was being childish and immature, but it was like some sort of all-consuming disease. Merlin knows how many times Bill had tried to talk to her for the past week and she had completely ignored him, or worse, yelled at him angrily in the middle of the hallway. They had had a very loud discussion after Defense the other day; so loud, in fact, that Professor McGonagall had been called down from her office to break them up, and even she had seemed reluctant. Weasley tempers were legendary and to be handled with care. It had earned her a detention; this only made her angrier.

She hugged her knees to her chest and sighed. All this anger was very draining. She needed to do something, but she couldn't figure out what. Scream? Kick something? Cry? All of the above? Ron's visit earlier that day had made her feel a little better, but the euphoria of his company had well and truly worn off. She missed him, and Hermione and Harry. Even Colin and Luna, as good friends as they were, could not fill that hole the trio had left in her. She had become so close with them over the past year, and once they were in it was almost impossible to get them out. She knew she would never break into that trio that they had formed; it was this impenetrable force that nothing could destroy. She had been close with each of them individually, but she knew she could never be 'in' with them. But she had been close enough, just on the outside of the triangle, and that had been enough for her.

Her ears pricked up as she heard someone approaching. She rolled her eyes and glared out into the distance. "Bill, I'm really not in the mood right now."

There was a chuckle as the person sat down. "I'll let him know when I see him next."

Ginny looked around and blinked, surprised to see not Bill sitting next to her, but Dean. He gave her a small smile and as he put his large sketchpad and pencil down on the grass beside him and leant back on his hands, she caught a glimpse of his sketches; mostly of people, some of the forest. He was wearing his muggle football team t-shirt again, West Ham.

"Oh, Dean, I'm sorry, I thought you were…"

"Yeah, I know who you thought I was. It's cool, don't even worry about it."

Ginny smiled awkwardly. Unfortunately, it always seemed to be awkward around Dean. He was a really nice guy, and she still liked him very much, but the way things had ended between them had not been to her liking, or his, and although they still spoke and were still friends, there seemed to be this barrier they could not get through.

"Not many people out today,' he said conversationally.

"Nope."

Dean scratched his chin on his shoulder. "How long have you been sitting here?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. A while."

"Ron left?"

"Yeah. Few hours ago."

"Was good to see him. He's looking tired though."

"That's understandable."

"So… on a scale of one to ten, exactly just how much do you hate everyone in your family right now?"

Ginny looked around at him. "_What_? I don't _hate_…"

Dean arched a dark eyebrow.

She pursed her lips and looked back at the lake. "I don't hate them, I'm just… frustrated."

"Because you can't go see Charlie and your mum?"

"How did you know about that?"

"You and Bill can yell pretty loud."

"Well, wouldn't you be annoyed?' she demanded. 'If your Mum was tortured and your family was going through a huge crisis without you, wouldn't you be mad that you weren't allowed to go home and be with them?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, there'd be definite anger there. But then, I'd think about why they were so adamant about me staying here too. I think you're taking all this business a bit too personally, Ginny."

Ginny's mouth dropped open. "How can I _not_ take it personally?"

"Well, like I said, there has to be a reason they didn't want you home, right?' he said, not intimidated by her anger at all. 'Maybe you staying here puts everyone's mind at ease. Maybe your Mum, as hard as it was for her, told your Dad to tell you to stay here, because it gives her one less thing to worry about. I mean, she's got Bill and his situation, then there's the twins running around being reckless, then there's Ron who's practically on the front line, your brother Percy who you said still hasn't spoken to you, and now Charlie? She's gotta be a total wreck, Gin. All that on top of what she's been through the past week… maybe the fact that you're here, and you're at least safe for the time being, gives her some mental and emotional respite."

Ginny's shoulders slumped and her eyes welled up with tears. How did he know so much about what other people were thinking? He'd always been perceptive like that though, it was one of the things she'd first fancied about him. Dean just looked at her, beautiful brown eyes locked onto hers. Not many people knew all this about her family; the only reason he knew is because she had confessed it all to him in the year prior during one of their nights alone, hidden behind a tapestry. It seemed like an eternity ago.

She let out a strangled cry of frustration. "I know. I know that's the reason. I know that's the reason for all of this and I know how childish I'm being. But she's my Mum, you know?' she muttered, looking at Dean again. 'I love her, and it hurts that all my brothers can see her and I can't. It hurts that even Percy, who has the opportunity to see her, won't and yet me, who is desperate to, isn't allowed to. I don't even want to stay there, really… I just want to see her; her and Charlie."

"You want to be close to your family."

"Exactly."

"Uh huh. Then why do you keep pushing Bill away?" he asked.

Ginny laughed and threw her hands up. "What is this, a therapy session?"

Dean shrugged. "I saw you down here from the Entrance Hall. You looked like you needed someone to talk to."

She watched, feeling guilty as he picked up his sketchpad, laid it in his lap, turned to a blank page and began to sketch.

"I'm sorry,' she muttered. 'I'm snapping at everyone and I can't help it."

"Its fine,' said Dean, not looking up. There was a small smile in the corner of his mouth as he continued to draw something so far unidentifiable. 'I'm used to pissy, hormonal teenagers. If you'll send your memory back a few years to when an ugly bugger with glasses bit practically everyone's head off…"

Ginny laughed and shook her head. "Oh God, I _am_ like him, aren't I?"

Dean smiled. "Same reasons, different person.' When she didn't reply, Dean looked up from his drawing and glanced at her. She was staring out across the lake again, brow knotted in thought. He knew that look. 'You miss him, don't you." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah,' she sighed, leaning back on her hands, 'but that's nothing new. It's sort of always been there, like white noise, or the Ministry of Magic, or Pansy Parkinson's dog face. Just something you get used to."

"You still speak to him?' asked Dean, rubbing the lead on the paper to blur it.

"I haven't spoken to him in ages.' She said sadly.

"Is that your choice or his?"

"It's a mutual understanding at this point.' She said. 'Last time we talked, he told me he didn't want to see me anymore."

Dean looked up. "He actually said that?"

Ginny shrugged. "Pretty much. I mean, I know where his head's at, and I know what he's thinking… but… _urgh_, I don't know."

She found herself wondering why it wasn't strange to talk about Harry with Dean. Maybe because it didn't even seem as though Dean was listening anymore. He was right into whatever it was he was drawing, his wrist rolling and his pencil dancing along the page. Ginny still couldn't tell what it was.

"Personally,' said Dean after a long moment, smirking, 'I think he's a prat. No sense breaking up with a beautiful girl just cause you've got a killer on your back."

"He's trying to _protect_ me', she spat, revolted. 'What is this, the eighteenth century? I can take care of myself well enough."

Dean pursed his lips. "Look, think about it from his view. I know that anything he really cares about he pushes away. He hides it, afraid that he'll loose it or break it or that someone will take it from him; probably comes from all those years his cousin took everything off him. And you're important to him, Ginny; real important. He cares about you too much, and that's why he was adamant you come back here. In his mind, Hogwarts is still his home, and it always will be. He has faith in this castle, and save locking you up in his Gringotts vault, he figures Hogwarts is still the safest place for you. He thinks that Hogwarts is going to take care of you. And you know what? I don't blame him. If you and I were… well… let's just say I'd do the same thing. I'd much prefer you alive and ticked off at me for the rest of your life, maybe even hate me, rather than dead."

He finally looked up and gave her a look. 'Ginny, I know what it's like to have the person you love walk away. _Trust_ me. But I know Harry and he's a good person. He'll do the right thing. You just have to have a little faith."

She frowned. "How can you know that?"

He shrugged. "It's what I'd do."

Ginny continued to watch him long after he smiled, looked away and went back to his drawing. She looked down at his hands and felt a shiver; he did have the nicest hands. She turned to him a little and frowned.

"I haven't been very nice to you, have I," she said. It wasn't a question.

Dean looked up at her again and snorted. "It's alright, Ginny."

"No, it's not. I've been horrible to you, and you did nothing to deserve it."

"Honestly, its fine."

"But the way things ended…"

"They ended the way they ended,' he laughed. 'Yeah, maybe things could have gone better, but it's not like we had this massive, emotional break-up. We're better off friends, and we both know that. Sure I would have liked to try a bit harder, but in all honesty… I'd really rather be with someone who wants to be with me as much as I want to be with them."

Ginny put a hand on his forearm and squeezed softly. "I really am sorry."

Dean smiled, took her hand and kissed her knuckles softly. Giving her back her hand, he ripped the paper from his sketchpad, handed it to her and stood up.

"Try and cheer up, will you?' he said, walking off.

Ginny smiled as she watched him walk back up to the castle over her shoulder. She turned back to the lake and looked down at the paper in her hand, finally seeing what it was he had been sketching. It was a girl, sitting by a lake, the sun setting, shimmering a reflection onto the glass surface of the water, her long hair blowing in the wind. She smiled down at it; he never managed to disappoint her with his artistic ability.

She looked around again as someone else sat down beside her. She looked at him for a long moment and a strong emotion filled her up, almost knocking her backward. Wordlessly, she shifted closer to him, rested up against him and let her head fall onto his shoulder.

Bill said nothing, just exhaled with relief and put an arm around her.

-----------------

"Have you ever been to Fiji?"

Lily looked at Harry lying beside her. The two of them were lying, sprawled on the floor, mirror images to each other with their heads next to one another.

She smiled. "No. Although I would have loved to have gone there for my Honeymoon."

"Where did you go instead?"

"Paris."

"Dad took you to the most romantic city in the world for your honeymoon? The _scoundrel_."

Lily laughed. "It wasn't like I didn't have a fabulous time! Oh, the places we went and the food we ate and the wine we tasted… everything about it was as beautiful as our wedding had been. James did have a rather large amount of money, and by that stage I was still trying to explain to him the concept of a 'budget'. A budget was for people who thought too far ahead, he would say. And really, what kind of wife would I have been, denying my husband the opportunity to lavish his new wife with all Paris had to offer?"

Harry smiled and looked at her. "But it wasn't where you wanted to go."

"Honestly, I wouldn't have cared staying a week in Knockturn Alley. I was just glad he was with me.' She smiled. 'Fiji just seemed so different. I would have loved to have gotten some brown on my pasty white Englishwoman skin. Plus, I hear the alcohol is pretty cheap." She looked at Harry as he laughed. "Have _you_ ever been there?"

Harry laughed through his lips. "Oh please! The closest I ever got to a tropical island was the day Dudley tipped water all over me when I was playing in the sandbox at kindergarten."

Lily pursed her lips. "Let's go."

"What?"

"To Fiji. Let's go."

"What… right _now_?"

"Yes, right now! We're wizards for god's sake! We don't have to pay for airline tickets or book a hotel room… we can just go; apparate there in half a second! Let's go!"

"Mum, I can't just apparate to Fiji!"

"Why not?"

"Well, for starters, I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a war going on…" he chuckled, quirking a black eyebrow.

Lily rolled her eyes and looked up at the ceiling again. "Oh _that_ old excuse. Why don't you just say 'a dog ate my homework'?"

"This is no laughing matter!' he chuckled, despite himself. 'Destiny's powerful hand has made the bed of my future, and it's up to me to lie in it. I am destined to be a superhero. To right wrongs, and to pound two-fisted justice into the hearts of evildoers everywhere. And you don't fight destiny. No sir. And you don't eat crackers in the bed of your future, or you get all... scratchy."

She sighed dramatically. "Okay, _fine_. We'll stay here and save the world."

Harry nodded. "Yes, we will."

"We can go to Fiji tomorrow."

"It's a date."

"No, really,'

Harry looked at her and saw she was completely serious.

"When all this is over,' she said, 'we're going to get away. I don't care where we go; it doesn't have to be Fiji, but we're going. Just the two of us."

"Like… a family holiday?"

Lily smiled and nodded.

Harry let out a 'ha' of amusement and looked back up at the ceiling. "I've never been on a family holiday before."

"Yes you have."

He frowned. "What? No I haven't. The Dursleys…"

"I'm not talking about the Dursleys, I'm taking about you, me and your father,' she said softly. 'We took you practically everywhere with us. We'd travel a lot to Wales to see my grandparents, rest their souls, and they had this little cottage down by the beach that they hardly used so James and I would take you there and we'd stay there on weekends. Oh, they had the most beautiful view when the sun went down, and you could stay down on the sand all day long with James, building sand castles …'

She trailed off with a smile and looked at Harry. He was looking at her, and even from the strange, upside down angle, she could see the expression on his face. Disbelief, mixed with happiness, mixed with an all-consuming envy that she could remember such happy times and he could not. She reached up, and he did the same, and she linked her fingers barely with his.

Harry pursed his lips. "Can I say something really dumb?"

"Don't you always?"

He smiled and shifted on the floorboards slightly. "Sometimes… I think I see things. Things I used to do with you and Dad. I dream about them. But when I wake up, it's like the more I try to remember what it was, the more its slips away – like trying to hold soap in your hand. But they can't be real memories, can they?"

Lily shrugged. "Maybe they are. The mind is pretty extraordinary."

He looked at her again. "What would you say to Dad if you could speak to him? Even just for a second?"

"So many things,' she smiled. 'I couldn't say only one. I'd tell him that I miss him more than anything. I'd tell him the scores of the most recent Quidditch Games and the new inventions that Zonko's had to offer. I'd tell him about you, what house you're in, what you look like, how you like your toast, which foot you put your sock on first and what tune you whistle when you're bored. I'd want to tell him what Remus looks like now and what the weather is like. I'd want to tell him that I cherished the time we spent together, and I never expected anything from him. Even if I only saw him for a few moments, it made me happy. And I'd want to tell him that I love him and that I'll always love him. And… no matter what happens on this world, I know he tried his best to help us."

"You could say all that in a second?' muttered Harry.

"I wouldn't have to,' she said, 'he would know just by the way I smile at him."

She rolled onto her side and kissed Harry's hand. She smiled at Harry, that same smile she always gave him, and Harry finally understood what it said. What it had always said. Harry felt a surge of determination; this wasn't just about him anymore.

"… Harry? Lily? Is someone up-… oh, there you are!"

Harry and Lily looked up to see a very harassed Remus Lupin standing in the doorway.

"What is it?' demanded Harry, leaping to his feet.

"A Dementor attack,' breathed Remus. 'just outside London. There's hundreds of them and the Auror's aren't holding them."

Without another word, Harry helped Lily to her feet and the three of them ran out of the room.

----------------

A/N- I am so sorry for the delay in this chapter! But, with all the hype about Deathly Hallows (best book ever, by the way!) it took my muse a bit longer to get back into 'fandom' mode. Hopefully you all enjoyed this installment! I will try to get the next one out to you as soon as possible! Repost: thanks D for the tips. I really do suck, hey?

Please review!


	46. Chapter 461

Chapter 46 – part one.

* * *

If there was anything Lord Voldemort had always enjoyed, it was a good fight. And much to his good fortune, he was getting his fill of one right now.

Hogsmeade was, for all intents and purposes, complete and utter chaos. Spells flying everywhere, people screaming, cries of fear and terror… it was music to his ears, and as he walked past a young man bent over the limp body of a young girl, his shoulder shaking as he tried hopelessly to revive her, he could help but smile. He strode calmly through the village as if out for an afternoon stroll, watching everything with wide red eyes, gleaming with excitement. Dolohov and Rodolphus flanked him a few steps behind. They had their wands out and their eyes peeled, ready to kill anyone who tried to lay a single jinx on Lord Voldemort. But he wasn't worried; no-one even knew he was in the village.

He walked up the hill, leaving the war zone in his wake. A group of hooded figures waited at the peak of the hill; like a barricade, a line of Death Eaters stood in front of the group, firing down curses onto unsuspecting wizards like archers firing arrows. They parted like the Red Sea as he approached, bowed and gave him room to pass.

"My Lord!" Carrow jogged to his side and bowed hurriedly.

"What is it, Amycus?"

"My Lord, the Dementors… they insist on fixating on Potter…"

Voldemort sighed impatiently, grabbed Dolohov by the front of his robes and yanked him close. "Go back down the hill and remind the Dementors that they must _wait_ for my signal. They will get their chance soon enough."

Dolohov muttered a quick 'Yes, m'Lord' and ran off without another look back.

Rodolphus shook his head. "Disgusting vermin…"

"Now now, is that any way to speak of your old friend?' smirked Voldemort.

"I meant the _Dementors_.' glared Rodolphus jokingly.

"The Dementors are our trusted allies!' hissed Amycus, his eyes wide with shock at Lestrange's ability to make a joke in the Dark Lord's presence, let alone with the Dark Lord himself.

"Calm yourself, Amycus,' said Voldemort shortly. He frowned, a moment of pain passing through his head like a flash of lightning. But it was gone as quickly as it had come, and his red eyes were locked on the lumpy Death Eater before him once more. 'Go and find Augustus. Tell him I wish to speak with him."

"Yes, my Lord. Right away, my Lord."

Rodolphus shrugged his heavy robes and looked out over the hill, his face, like Voldemort, turning green, red, yellow and other bright colours in reflections of the dozens of spells being cast below. Voldemort drew up beside him, smiled and drew in a long, deep breath through his nose like someone enjoying a sunset on the beach, breathing in the sea air.

He glanced sideways at the wizard beside him. "You worry for your wife?"

The bearded wizard blinked and looked at Voldemort as if he had slapped him in the face. "No, my Lord, I was just… that is…"

"Settle, Rodolphus.' smirked Voldemort, looking back at the fight. 'You are only human after all, and Bella is… one of a kind."

"She is, my Lord."

"My Lord!"

Voldemort and Rodolphus looked around. Two Death Eaters approached, dragging between them a little man, struggling against his captors. There a large gash up his arm with blood oozing steadily from it and right down his left side, from his face down, was covered with mud.

Rodolphus stepped in front of Voldemort protectively and glared. "What is the meaning of this? You were told no prisoners!"

"He cursed seven of us trying to get in!' retorted the masked figure on the left.

"Then you should have killed him!" snapped Rodolphus; sparks shot out of the end of his wand.

"Gentleman, please.' laughed Voldemort. 'This is no way to speak in front of our guest."

Rodolphus backed off, his grip still tight on his wand.

Voldemort gently moved Rodolphus aside, walked forward and bent down in front of the small man. He craned his neck to see his face and smiled. "Professor Flitwick. How kind of you to join us."

Tiny Professor Flitwick looked up; he had gone limp, exhausted from his futile struggling. "Dispense with the pleasantries, young master Riddle.' he wheezed. 'If you wish to kill me do it now. Save me your false attempts at polite small talk you were always so fond of."

"Oh, now, Professor,' Voldemort smirked with a malicious glint in his eye and poked the tip of his wand into Flitwick's neck, 'why would you come all the way down here if you didn't wish to speak to me, hmm? And here I was thinking we could have a nice little catch-up. Tell me, how are things at Hogwarts these days?"

"If you put… one _foot_ in that castle…' sneered Flitwick, his tiny eyes, normally bright with happiness and joy now dark and threatening, '…if you harm one student…"

"Calm down, old man.' said Voldemort, whacking Flitwick in the neck firmly with his wand. 'I have no plans for Hogwarts. Well,' he added with a smirk, 'at least not tonight."

"You're despicable,' spat Flitwick. 'Poor, innocent children! _Children_!"

"Ah yes, how true. But you and I both know, dear Filius, that mere children can be far more than they seem.' said Voldemort, giving the tiny wizard a meaningful look.

"You foul, pernicious…"

Flitwick cried out in pain as the Death Eater who had been arguing with Rodolphus moments ago struck Flitwick forcefully in the back of the head with his elbow.

"Watch your mouth in front of the Dark Lord!' he boomed.

"Tut tut, we must mind our manners.' said Voldemort softly, cooing as if trying to sooth the old wizard held firm in front of him. Flitwick bowed his head, grunting in pain, and Voldemort looked down at him with a small frown. 'You know, I find myself disappointed in you, Professor. Dueling Champion, Charms master… why you're practically legendary. And yet, here you are, defeated and at the Dark Lord's mercy."

The diminutive teacher looked up at him defiantly. "Your day will come, young master Riddle… when it is _you_ who will be at _his_ mercy."

Voldemort laughed and got to his feet. "You honestly believe that Potter, one single, solitary boy, can put an end to all this?' he waved a hand, gesturing lazily.

"He put an end to you once,' wheezed Flitwick, and Voldemort realized with a scowl that the small little wizard was _laughing_ at him, 'he could do it again. He _will_ do it again."

"Perhaps. But, as I said earlier… not today.'

The tall, skeletal wizard bent down again, bringing himself eye-level with Professor Flitwick. He smiled; cruel and mocking. Flitwick just looked at him, tired and worn, his bright blue eyes sparkling with that last little flicker of defiance. Voldemort raised his wand and gently ran the tip down the side of Flitwick's face, the side that wasn't covered in mud and grime; it was almost soothing. As if in slow motion, Voldemort moved forward and gently pressed the tip of his wand into Flitwick's chest. As Voldemort pressed his cheek against Flitwick's, he felt his breathing become shallower, and as he closed his eyes Voldemort whispered softly in his ear…

"_Avada Kedavra_."

The flash of green left as quickly as it had come. The Death Eaters let go of his arms and Professor Flitwick went crashing back into the dirt, completely limp. He moved no more.

Voldemort stood up and dusted off his hands as he gazed curiously at the body that lay still at his feet. "Rodolphus,"

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Go down to the village. Head the front. Wait for my signal to deploy the Dementors."

Rodolphus bowed and hurried off.

"Yaxley,"

"M'Lord?"

"Please escort Professor Flitwick back to Hogwarts gates. Minerva McGonagall is no doubt desperate to see him back safely."

The hooded figure on the right levitated the body at Voldemort's feet into the air and left, dragging it along behind him like a lifeless puppet.

"Jugson,"

"My Lord?"

Voldemort adjusted the cuffs of his sleeve as he watched Flitwick hovering down the hill. "Go to the Three Broomsticks and bring me a Butterbeer. I'm parched."

Jugson bowed low, as so many of his enthusiastic followers did, and departed swiftly through the front line of Death Eaters to do his masters' bidding. As Voldemort looked out over the battle still raging, he wondered if Jugson would even return from it. He hoped so. He really did want that Butterbeer.

Red eyes searched through the masses, and almost instantly Voldemort found him. He felt like he could find him anywhere; even in a crowd of ten thousand people, he felt like he would know exactly where he was, as if drawn to him. He was fighting one on one with, Voldemort guessed, one of his newest involuntary members. He had recruited so many people in the past few months, whether they be bribed, threatened or cursed, that he couldn't remember names or faces or even their blood status. Not that it mattered. They served their purpose, whatever or whoever they were.

Taking a moment, Voldemort folded his arms over his chest and watched Harry duel. He was interesting to watch; Voldemort mused he never really got the chance to watch him. He was always too busy trying to kill the little sod to really see how he fought; to get an appreciation for his technique. And it only took four seconds for Voldemort to see that he really didn't _have_ a technique. He was random and sloppy. He jumped and rolled and spun like he was doing some sort of mentally retarded ballet. He didn't seem to really appreciate the genius that was shields, more preferring to dodge or leap out of the way as if he were playing Quidditch. He was unpredictable and resourceful and would often use objects around him to either create distractions, protection or weapons. He was quick and had initiative; qualities Voldemort himself prized. But in Harry, it was just plain annoying. He was like a fly that constantly buzzed around your head and no matter how many times you waved it away or tried to swat it, it was always just that little bit out of your range, or you just weren't quick enough.

Voldemort was humiliated to think that this boy had once almost killed him, and that he was now prophesized to stop him. The Powers that Be must have had a pretty heavy night on the Meade the night before they had called forth _that_ Prophecy. This boy was meant to be his end? This boy? What power could this child possibly possess that Lord Voldemort did not? He, who had spent decades researching into the deepest, darkest, most powerful sources of magic. What exceptional ability made him the one? What was it about him that had evoked such unconditional trust from Dumbledore? Voldemort did not worry too much; he soon would have his questions answered.

Coming back to the present, a smirk spread over Voldemort face as he watched a blast of yellow light strike Harry right in the chest and knock him hard onto his back. The Death Eater took the moment and raised his wand, but someone got to him first, sending a red jet of light right into his back, and the Death Eater slumped to the ground and moved no more. Voldemort raised an eyebrow as the youngest Weasley boy seemed to laugh, kick the Death Eater in the side, duck an oncoming spell and held out a hand for Harry. With a smile of thanks, Harry took his hand, let him help him to his feet and said something with a clap on the back.

_How quaint,_ thought Voldemort in disgust. He suddenly felt a need to projectile vomit in Harry's direction.

"My Lord!"

Amycus Carrow had returned. He approached up the hill from Voldemort's left, followed by a very wary looking Augustus Rookwood.

Rookwood bowed. Voldemort did not miss his wince as he did so. "You wished to see me?"

"I did. Amycus, return to the village."

Rookwood turned to face the fight again as the short little wizard ran off, following orders.

Voldemort smirked at him. "You look tired, Augustus. I wonder, are the Auror's too much for you?"

"I'm fine.' said Rookwood flatly. 'It has… been a while since I last fought. And I had forgotten how much of a fight Arthur Weasley can put up."

"You will get the hang of it again quite soon, I'm sure.' said Voldemort softly.

Rookwood looked at him. He shivered with a sudden surge of anticipation. He had been anticipating this moment for what seemed like forever. "Is it time, my Lord?"

Voldemort's face was expressionless as he watched his young nemesis, once again in a fight, his mudblood friend now beside him, firing off curses and, unlike her friend, using her brain and conjuring shields to protect herself.

"Yes, it is time.' he said, drawing his wand.

He continued to watch as Harry rolled onto his stomach and fired a spell up at his attacker, sending them to the ground in a fit of giggles…

… and Harry took the opportunity to get to his knees, aim and cry, "_Stupefy_!"

"You should have done that in the first place!" cried Hermione, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and pulling him to his feet.

"He tried to plant boils all over my face, Hermione!' snapped Harry. He grabbed her by the arm, yanked him toward her, put one arm around her and in a half twist, shielded her from the Death Eater who had been running up behind her, wand raised, and at the same time fired a curse at him, sending the Death Eater crashing to the ground in a heap. 'I'm sorry if I didn't want pus all in my eyes!"

"Well use a shield! Don't go crawling in the dirt like a Flubberworm! _Protego_!"

"_Reducto_!"

Hermione had leant right in front of Harry and cast a shield just in time to deflect a curse coming toward him he had not seen. A split second after the curse had hit, sending them both stumbling backward, Harry cast a spell back, making the letterbox beside the Death Eater explode and send splinters flying into their mask. Taking the moment, Harry grabbed Hermione and dragged her behind a nearby house. They both crouched down and leant against the wooden wall, panting, sore and exhausted.

Harry looked at her. "You all right?"

"I think its broken.' she muttered, wincing as she rolled her left wrist gingerly.

"I can try and fix it…"

"Please don't.' she said, smiling faintly.

Harry coughed out a laugh and looked around the side of the house. He could just see Tonks with Dawlish, the two of them locked in battle with three other Death Eaters. Harry frowned and rubbed his scar; it was throbbing like mad. His forehead was slick with sweat. He wiped away the beads of perspiration with the back of his hand and looked back at Hermione; she was staring into space, frowning.

"Are you all right?' he asked.

"Yes, I told you, I don't want you to fix it."

"No not your wrist. You look worried. Is it about Ron? Cause I just saw him and he's fine…"

"No, it's not that…' she started.

They both jumped, curled into themselves and covered their heads with their hands as the window above them exploded, sending shards of glass everywhere.

"It's this confounded attack!' she said irritably, picking glass out of her hair. 'It doesn't make the slightest bit of sense!"

"None of them ever do.' he muttered, dusting off her shoulder.

"Why attack Hogsmeade?' she demanded, as if expecting Voldemort to suddenly appear before her and explain it all to her. 'It can't be about Hogwarts, they would have gone up there by now. They're just... _loitering_ here. And the Dementors! Honestly! What is going on?"

Harry clenched his jaw and looked past Hermione where the turrets and towers of Hogwarts could be seen peeking over the hill. She had a point. If they wanted to take Hogwarts they would have done it by now. But they seemed determined to stay in Hogsmeade and inflict as much damage as possible. Were they waiting for something? Was this some sort of distraction? And what was with the Dementors? Voldemort had never sent Dementors in with the Death Eaters before. Was he getting nervous? Was he trying to overrun Hogsmeade and use it as a new Headquarters? And if so, why did he insist on keeping the Dementors back? Why not let them have their reign? Harry was just as confused as Hermione; he had as many questions as she did. But all he could focus on was keeping hold of Hogsmeade and not letting one Death Eater or Dementor up to that castle. The fact that ten professors, fifteen Aurors, five Order members and Hagrid were already up there should Hogsmeade fall did nothing to soothe his anxiety. Kids were up there. Ginny was up there.

"Harry…"

A scream jolted Harry out of his train of thought. He looked around at Hermione, alarmed. She was tugging on his sleeve, looking very pale. "Look! Up there!"

Harry peered around the edge of the house and saw it instantly floating above the hill – the massive skull with a snake slithering out of its open mouth glittering in the sky. Panic swelled in Harry's chest and he felt his scar send a jolt of pain through his head.

"Oh no,' whispered. Hermione's grip on his shoulders tightened and she hissed panicky in his ear. 'Who do you think it was? Oh God…"

"Its okay.' said Harry softly, trying to sound more confident than he felt. 'It'll… it's going to be okay."

"But what if it's…'

She didn't finish. Harry didn't need nor want her to.

Harry bit back a moan as his scar burned again. "Come on, let's go!"

Grabbing her hand, he leapt to his feet and ran back out into the fight. They ducked and weaved, not stopping to get into any confrontation. Harry wasn't exactly sure why, but he had a sudden need to get to High Street, as if someone needed him to be there.

A cloaked figure suddenly jumped out in front of them, wand raised. Taking the opportunity, Harry ducked, pulling Hermione down harshly with him, jammed his wand into the Death Eater's ribs and shouted, "_STUPEFY_!"

The combination of the force of the spell plus the point-blank range sent the Death Eater flying into the air; he landed in a crumpled heap a few meters away. Harry wasted no time; he tugged on Hermione's hand and they continued running, leaping over the limp Death Eater in their path.

Harry could hear Hermione shouting spells behind him, and every few moments either he or she would pull the other to a stop, clear the path of danger and continue on. This was all taking far too long in Harry's opinion, and if he could manage side-long apparition he would have. Hermione's hand was sweaty but firm in his, and they were just about to come off the alley when Hermione let out a scream and her hand was ripped from his.

"_HERMIONE_!" screamed Harry. He had barely turned to see what had happened when someone went crashing into the side of him, sending both of them hard to the ground.

Harry let out a cry of pain as he landed awkwardly on his shoulder. His assailant wasted no time pinning him to the ground and raising his wand. But the Death Eater seemed to hesitate, and realizing in a split second that both his hands were bare of a wand, Harry reached up, grabbed the Death Eater's raised wrist and, with an upward thrust from the right side of his hip, rolled them over. Harry could hear a scuffle going on to his left, and he could hear a female grunt of pain and frustration, but he didn't dare look away from the Death Eater beneath him, struggling to shove Harry off him. Harry pushed down with all his weight, gripped the Death Eater's wrist with both hands and smashed it onto the ground. The Death Eater cried in pain, but did not let go. Harry growled, annoyed and did it again… and again… and again…

Finally the wand sprung from the Death Eater's hand, and Harry quickly grabbed the mask and ripped it off his face. A middle-aged man looked up at him with rage and pain, and before Harry realized what was happening a knee slammed hard into his backside and sent him rolling off him and back onto the gravel road. Harry cried out in pain, winded, but had no time to recover as the Death Eater climbed on top of him, wrapped his hands around Harry's neck and squeezed tight. Harry clawed at his hands, his eyes bulging. He tried to kick out but the Death Eater sat right on his chest, out of reach of his knees. Harry raised a fist and tried to hit him in the face, but the Death Eater craned his neck and dodged him with absurd ease. Harry could hear Hermione somewhere to his left… there were black spots in his line of vision… the blood was pumping in his head… the last thing he would see was this man smiling down at him…

And then the Death Eater's hands were gone, and Harry watched as he went flying right through the hair as if being dragged by an invisible hook, slammed hard into the roof guttering of the Three Broomsticks and fell to the ground in an awkward heap.

Harry gulped down air and looked up at Ron; he was pointing his wand where the Death Eater had crashed, a look of fury on his face. He looked back around at Harry, and his expression cracked. Harry was on his feet instantly, not even giving Ron a chance to talk.

"_Her-my-knee_…" he croaked, pointing.

The two boys looked as they jogged over to where Hermione was on all-fours, a Death Eater lying on his stomach on the ground behind her, a hand gripping her ankle tightly as she tried to crawl away. His mask was gone and the hem of his robes was singed, and like Harry it seemed as though Hermione had lost her wand too. Ron was already advancing, wand raised, when suddenly Hermione let out an angry cry, grabbed a fist full of gravel, turned around and threw it hard into the Death Eater's face. He cried out in pain and let go of Hermione's ankle, and without wasting a second Hermione rolled over and kicked him hard in the face. There was a sickening 'crack' and Death Eater screamed with pain. Hermione kicked him again in the temple with the heel of her sneaker and the Death Eater went limp.

Panting, Hermione pulled herself to her feet and dusted herself off. She looked up at Harry and Ron.

Harry and Ron just looked at her, dumfounded.

"What?' breathed Hermione, frowning.

"So much for rescuing the damsel in distress.' said Ron, giving Harry a look.

"You know me,' said Hermione, retrieving her wand, 'not much with the damseling."

"Neither was Harry, I thought. Dropping your wand you stupid pillock, what the hell were… oi! Where are you _going_?"

Ron and Hermione watched as Harry, who had just recovered his own wand, ran off again through the masses, ducking and weaving spells. It only took a moment for their surprise to wear off and they were running after him, dodging people, leaping over bodies and avoiding rogue spells as they went.

"Harry!' cried Hermione. "Harry… _wait_…"

"What the hell are you _doing_?' called Ron, grabbing Hermione's hand as he pulled her along.

Harry ignored them. He had a bad feeling, a very bad feeling, and he needed to get to High Street as soon as possible. He didn't know what it was, it was indescribable. The closer he got, the more foreboding it felt. He could hear Ron and Hermione pelting along behind him, but the urge to get to the middle of the town was so strong he didn't even think to turn around and tell them to stay back.

Around another corner and down the hill and Harry skidded to a halt, ducking just in time as a spell went flying over his head. He panted and looked around expectantly, but the scene here was no different from anywhere else; utter chaos. Harry hadn't really realized until now just how many people seemed to be fighting. There were dozens of wizards and witches, all pitting themselves against the Death Eaters. Aurors, Order members, a few teachers from the school, but he was surprised to see a few every day people who had been in Hogsmeade for a quiet evening also contributing with a determination Harry had once possessed back at the start of all this. They were surprising, unassuming and inspiring, and Harry wished he had more than a few seconds to admire them. Buildings where damaged. The roof of Honeydukes had been completely blown off. A few wizards were standing out the front of Zonko's, trying to extinguish the flames that were engulfing the shop and at the same time trying to dodge fireworks that had been set off. Half of Dervish and Banges had collapsed in; potion ingredients had spilt, crushed scales and cauldrons were scattered. Parchment and scorched quills from Scrivenshaft's littered the streets.

But then, suddenly, everything stopped.

In the blink of an eye, every Death Eater that had been fighting disappeared with a loud, collective 'CRACK', leaving a very stunned group of people to look around, confused.

Harry frowned, barely registering Ron and Hermione arriving behind him, panting.

Ron clapped Harry on the back and wheezed a laugh. "They've scampered! Scared the pants off them! Well done, mate!"

"No, this isn't right. I don't like this.' said Hermione. Her eyes were wide as she looked around cautiously.

Harry rubbed his neck gingerly and gripped his wand tightly. The evening breeze had picked up slightly; it was silent save for the crackling of the small flames still coming out of Zonko's. Harry curled his nose up; there was a sudden horrid smell in the air. Dung bombs had probably caught fire in Zonko's.

And then he felt it. That cold shiver up his spine. He looked around in alarm. The stars seemed to disappear… his chest felt tight and it was becoming difficult to breathe… his scar prickled… a sense of despair was settling in…

"_DEMENTORS_!' he screamed, running forward. "EVERYONE GET BACK!"

The effect was instant. Everyone ran in different directions, screaming. Harry shoved his way through them like a salmon swimming upstream, ducked a stray firework cart-wheeling around their heads and finally broke free of the crowd. About ten people had stayed put, determined and ready in a line. They all looked at him as he approached, and Harry nodded in acknowledgement as he moved in-between them and joined their ranks. Despite their ready stances they looked scared and pale. They gripped their wands tightly, as if the small wooden sticks in their hands were what were anchoring them to life.

After what seemed like an eternal moment broken only by screams in the distance, they silently appeared in slow motion like a black cloud rolling over the hill. Harry could only count fifteen, but he knew there was more. His chest hitched and he felt his heart skip a beat. He felt detached from his body, from the situation, but he tried desperately to focus. He pushed the haziness out of his mind, blinking furiously and trying determinedly to keep nothing but happy memories in the forefront of his mind.

Harry looked to his left as someone tall entered his peripheral vision. "I highly recommend _not_ being here right now."

"I highly recommend you stop pissing off every time I try to talk to you.' said Ron, giving him a small smile.

"Don't even bother.' said Hermione on Harry's right. "We're not going anywhere."

Harry saw more people running down toward them out of the corner of his eye… Remus, Tonks, Kingsley… but he just looked at Hermione for a long moment, and then back at Ron. Both of them were watching the silent approach of the Dementors, wands ready.

"Wait for my signal!' called Kingsley.

Everyone raised their wands. Harry gripped his tightly; his palm was sweating and the wood was hot. His chest heaved as he tried to slow his breathing. He kept running things through his mind, faces, memories, anything that would help. Ginny… Ron and Hermione beside him… his mother, safe at home for once… Draco hanging from his toes in a dungeon…The cold was consuming; Harry hadn't been around more than two Dementors for years. His scar was throbbing again and he felt lightheaded.

The mass of black robes continued to float closer and closer. Harry's knees buckled and he bit back a groan as his scar flashed with pain. He felt Hermione grab his sleeve tug on it.

"Its okay…' she whispered soothingly in his ear, '… just relax… you're okay… we're here…"

Now that they were closer, Harry could see that there were about thirty of them. He felt Ron flinch beside him, and Harry's head swam with a cloudy mist. Hermione still had a hold of his arm; it was keeping him upright and awake.

_Ron looked around Grimmauld Place with a critical eye. "What the ruddy hell are you doing here anyway? I mean, sure, I know Fred and George's room is a bit dodgy and likely to…"_

"NOW!"

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM_!"

Dazzling white light burst from their wands as dozens of Patronus's sprung to life. Harry squinted against them, shook his head and hastily cast '_Expecto Patronum_!'. His stag appeared in shimmering silver light and landed soundlessly in front of him. It turned to look at Harry, bowed his head and ran off after the mass of Patronus's already making their way up the hill.

The front line of Dementors swerved, but the Patronus's rounded them up like border collies manipulating sheep and drove them out to the side and back up the hill. The second line however continued to march forward, and minus the aid of Patronus's for the time being they had to improvise.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!' cried Remus, pointing.

A flaming beam from Zonko's broke away from the building, finally sending the roof caving in. The beam hovered in mid-air for a moment, still on fire, and Remus quickly dropped it right in the path of the Death Eaters. Tonks stepped forward, cried '_Reducto_!' and the beam exploded, creating a massive ball of fire. Harry shielded his eyes against the fire, but once over the initial burst everyone began summoning wood from the tattered buildings around them to add to the flaming barricade.

Harry's tried to call back his Patronus again, but his head felt as though it was being squeezed in a vice. His arm fell; he groaned against the pain and stumbled backward.

_They were in an old, abandoned factory, surrounded by crates and stray objects. Remus crossed over to Harry, Mundungus tidying up the mess behind him. His light brown eyes looked down at the tiny locket in Harry's hand. "That's it, isn't it?" _

Harry blinked and the image was gone. He felt someone tugging on his sleeve and he ran along behind them blindly as if he were half awake, half sleepwalking. Harry felt a surge of apprehension and anxiety as he stumbled along. His scar was throbbing painfully and he felt drunk and out of touch with his surroundings.

He shook his head as if to clear it and focused in on what was happening just as Ron tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground in front of him. It was then that Harry saw the Dementor right in front of them, looming over the both of them, drawing in a long, rattling breath. Harry raised his wand dopily, but didn't even open his mouth before a large white figure ran forward and leapt in front of Harry and Ron, blocking the Dementor.

"Harry!' called a voice – Remus. 'Ron, get up!"

Ron was on his feet and a tiny little dog ran over to him. It barked up at the Dementor and the hooded creature recoiled, and as the large wolf beside it snarled and swiped its paw, the Dementor fled.

"You okay?' asked Remus, pulling Ron to his feet.

"I let go of him for two seconds!' said Ron, looking at Harry in worry. 'Harry! Harry, can you even hear me?"

"Something…' he paused and blinked. His vision was swimming. 'Yeah, I'm fine."

"There's something wrong with him.' said Remus, examining Harry with a frown. He grabbed Harry's shoulder and shook him. 'Harry! Come on now, wake up! It's all right, remember what I taught you! Focus on a memory."

"Yeah,' said Harry, swaying. He stared into space for a long moment, before looking up at Remus. He blinked and squinted, focusing in on him. 'Yeah, I'm okay. Go… I'm fine…"

"Ron, take him home."

"No, Remus, I'm fine."

"Harry, you can barely stand! You are in no state to…"

"I said I'm _fine_!' snarled Harry, glaring at Remus.

Remus did not look convinced.

"I'll stay near him,' said Ron, grabbing Harry's arm again.

Remus clenched his jaw, obviously not at all happy with this arrangement. Harry swaggered again, as if drunk, but Ron quickly caught hold of his arm and steadied him. Pretending not to notice, Remus gave Ron a look that said 'do not let him out of your sight', gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze and ran off over to Tonks, his massive silver wolf following in his wake.

Ron shook Harry again. "Hey, come on! What's wrong?"

Harry wished he knew. Dementors affected him more than most people; it was common fact. But even Ron didn't seem anywhere near as affected as he should be.

He frowned and focused himself. "I'm okay, really. Where's Hermione?"

"This way, come on."

They ran up High Street, and as Harry followed Ron and his little Jack Russell Patronus, he tried not to trip over his own feet. He didn't know where his Patronus was; he couldn't even feel if it was still active or not. He couldn't feel anything but the cold in his chest, the pain in his scar and the numb feeling in his feet and legs as he ran.

And then something was exploding inside his head, pain beyond pain, and something knocked into him from the right, sending him to the ground. He rubbed his scar gingerly, willing the consuming ache away. He looked up, but all he could see was black. Had he gone blind? Was his scar doing this? No, the black was moving… and it was then he realized he wasn't blind, but was watching the black robes of two Dementors closing in on him. He could just see Ron through the gap between them, struggling to get to his feet.

Harry tried to ignore the pain, ignore the all-consuming misery overtaking his senses and tried to focus on a memory. The first thing that came to mind was his mother, smiling at him, her bright green eyes dazzling.

Harry raised his wand. "_Expecto…Expecto Patronum_!"

A silvery fog burst from his wand, but nothing more. Harry cried out again in pain and slumped forward onto his stomach, his face hitting the gravel hard. He coughed and groaned and tried to point his wand, but he had no energy. He could see more robes appearing, more sadness sucking the life out of him.

And that's when he felt the tingling sensation in his mind. He knew what was going to happen a split second before and he had no way of stopping it. He cried out in pain and collapsed completely, his hands flying to his scar as his mind was ripped open…

_He was sitting in Dumbledore's office with the now deceased Headmaster, talking about Tom Riddle… he was Little Hangleton, watching Marvolo and Morfin Gaunt, Dumbledore at his side… he was in the cave, forcing Dumbledore to drink… _

"Harry! Quick, get over here! Get them back! _EXPECTO PATRONUM_!"

_He was in the museum, taking the Pensieve out with Ron… he was in a room full of Inferi and Vampires with Draco, a dozen golden cups between them… _

"Harry! Oh my God, Remus! Help him!"

_He was at Hogwarts, lying with Ginny under the tree by the lake… he was kissing her behind a tapestry… he was hugging her goodbye at the train station… he was dreaming of her underneath him, her hair everywhere…_

"What the hell is this? _You_?"

_He was interrogating Lily on the bed… he was reading the letter, telling him she was real… he was watching her Patronus…he was hugging Lily, her embrace warm and welcome… he was laughing with Lily by the fireplace, talking about Quidditch… he was talking to her about the veil… he was watching her destroy the Horcruxes…he was lying on the floor with her, his hand in hers, feeling warm and loved and whole… _

And it was over.

The pain in Harry's scar ceased and he zoned back into reality, gasping for breath. He was on his back, lying in someone's arms. He looked up, barely having enough energy to open his eyes. He looked up at someone pale and gripped the front of their shirt.

"He knows…' he whispered, his voice barely audible. '… he _knows_…"

"Knows what?' said a deep voice.

"_Everything_.' breathed Harry.

And everything went black.

--------------------------

It was warm, and Harry didn't want to move.

But consciousness demanded his presence, and very reluctantly he opened his eyes. It was dark and everything was blurry without his glasses. He didn't know where he was. He squinted, trying to make out shapes when he saw someone move and then light exploded in front of his eyes.

"Hey.' said a gentle voice.

Harry frowned as his mother smiled down at him. "Where am I?"

"Back at Grimmauld Place.' said Lily, waving a hand around.

"Wha'…' he mumbled, wetting his lips, '… Hogsmeade…"

"It's over. After you fainted, the Dementors seemed to back off, and not even a whole minute later they and the Death Eaters were gone."

"Yeah.' agreed Harry, sitting up a little. 'They got what they wanted."

Lily said nothing, just handed him his glasses.

Slipping them back on his nose, Harry asked, "Is everyone all right?"

"Out of our lot, yeah. There were a few casualties in Hogsmeade though unfortunately. One girl received the Dementors kiss."

"Oh God." Harry felt sick. "And what about… I saw the Dark Mark…"

Harry's stomach plummeted as her expression darkened.

She sighed. "Professor Flitwick."

Every nerve ending in Harry's body seemed to go numb. For a long moment he was sure he hadn't heard right, but the look on his mothers face confirmed the terrible truth. The idea of Professor Flitwick dead was almost impossible to imagine. The tiny little Charms master, who Harry had known by reputation to be quite a formidable opponent, simply couldn't be dead. It was unfathomable. Professors seemed eternal. They just… existed. They were there every morning when you arrived at your first class, and they were always still there when they left. To think that they went home, and had cereal for breakfast, and brushed their hair, and listened to their favorite records while they had wine with their dinner, and went out to meet friends was just something you never thought of them doing. You never thought of them having lives, until they didn't have one to live anymore. Harry felt sadness settle in his chest; he had really liked Professor Flitwick.

"They laid him at the Hogwarts gates,' said Lily, wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold. "They… wanted to give Hogwarts a message, I guess. Sick bastards. Poor Filius…"

"Did they breach Hogwarts?"

"No, they left as soon as you feinted."

"How long was I out?"

"Almost three hours."

"Three _HOURS_?"

Harry leapt out of bed so fast he almost knocked Lily out of her chair.

"Harry! Geez!"

Without pausing to apologize, Harry ran from his room, across the landing and down the stairs. He could hear Lily behind him, trying desperately to keep up, but it was only a few seconds before Harry was running down the stone steps, two at a time, and burst into the kitchen with a loud bang.

There were dozens of people in the dining room, all of them startled into silence as the door had flung inward. They looked up at him in shock. He enjoyed a split seconds relief to see all the Weasley's present and unharmed, Remus and Tonks standing together near the fireplace, Kingsley, Mad-eye too. But in his haste, Harry ignored them all, his eyes instinctively finding Ron and Hermione at the back of the crowd, seated at the table, now on their feet coming around to him.

"What's happened?' he demanded without waiting. 'What's going on? What's he doing? Why are you all doing here instead of being out there?"

"Mate, just calm down…"

"No I will _not_ calm down, Ron!' snapped Harry, shoving Ron away. 'Why are you all sitting here doing nothing? Voldemort knows! He knows everything!"

"We know.' said Hermione.

Harry looked down at her, dumbfounded. "You _know_? Then why the bloody hell are you sitting here talking to me? We need to… we need to prepare! He knows about the Horcruxes! He knows that Dumbledore found out about them, he knows he's told me, he knows I've been looking for them… Merlin's pants, Mum, he knows about you!"

Lily, who had just entered behind him, shrugged. "So?"

"_So_? Have you not been following? Do you have any idea what this _means_?"

"He was going to find out anyway.' she said, folding her arms over her chest.

Harry just stared at her, unable to believe what he was hearing. She seemed completely impassive to their situation, and Harry for the life of him could not understand how or why.

Lily got up and took him by the shoulders. "Look, I know you're upset…"

"_Upset_? How can I _not_ be upset?' he cried, throwing his arms up in the air. 'I've ruined everything! I've given away all our information. All our secrets! Any hope we had of catching him by surprise is gone! This is it, Mum! He knows everything, and he won't wait another second to do something about it. We need to be making counter-action plans _now_!"

"We _have_ counter-action plans.' said Remus softly.

"Then why aren't you out there bloody using them?"

No-one said anything, and Harry frowned, suddenly furious.

"You're waiting for me, aren't you.' It wasn't a question. 'All hells' about to sodding break loose and you're sitting down here, waiting for me to wake up?"

"Well, yeah,' admitted Ron sheepishly. 'But only because you told us to."

"You're our leader, Harry,' said Tonks, 'as in "follow the'."

"Look, forget what I said. We need to move!"

"No, first, you need to calm down."

Harry stiffened as Lily grabbed his arms again and fixed him with a look. _That_ look. Despite the fact that he could barely stand still, he fixed himself to the spot and clenched his jaw.

"We don't have time to be _calm_.' he said slowly. 'We don't have time for anything! God knows what he's doing now that he knows! You should have been doing something while I was asleep!"

"How many times have you told us to wait for you, Harry? You've insisted upon it! And now you're telling us off because we haven't done as you asked?"

"This is different!"

"And even if we were to all just choof off and leave you here barely conscious, what would you like us to do?' said Lily, giving him a look. 'We've got no idea what he's planning, what he's going to do next or even where, what plans he has or how much time we've got left!"

Harry pursed his lips. "But we could."

Lily frowned as his meaning became clear. "Don't you even dare."

"But Mum…"

"You've been through enough mental trauma today for one lifetime, and going back into his mind again could cause serious damage! And if he finds out what you're doing… well, I hate to say it darling but he's a far superior Occlumens than you are…"

"Mum, there isn't another way!' argued Harry.

Hermione stepped forward. "Harry, I hate to take sides here…"

"Then don't, Hermione,' said Harry. 'You know this is the only way. I have to see what he's doing. It's the only way we'll have a chance against him."

"Harry, your mother's right.' said Remus firmly, getting to his feet. 'The strain on your mental link with Voldemort has been put through the ringer today, and if you were to continue to push the envelope…"

"Don't you all understand?' cried Harry angrily. 'It doesn't get anymore serious than this!"

"We do understand, Harry,' said Mr. Weasley, coming forward. 'But we don't want you to get hurt either."

"So, what… we're just supposed to sit around? See what he does?"

"No, of course not…' started Hermione.

"Look, I understand that you guys are worried,' said Harry, calming himself. It was so much more difficult with his scar burning the way it was. 'But this is it. Not all of you understand just how much he knows, how much crucial information I've had on him… and now that it's all out on the open he's mad, and when people get mad they become reckless. Unpredictable. Dangerous. Its crucial we know what he's doing if we have any chance at beating him, and if that means I have to walk around for a headache for another ten years then so be it."

Lily bit her lip, her eyes watering. "Harry…"

'He's angry, Mum,' said Harry softly so no-one else could hear. "So angry that my veins are boiling… my scar feels like it's about to tear my head apart… and the only reason I can concentrate right now is because I know that we have to stop him. This is it. He's not going to mess around with us anymore. The time for pussyfooting around is over. He knows about the Horcruxes. He knows his life is at stake. He knows you're alive and I'm betting Rookwood's told him how. I don't know what he's going to do with all this information, but I could. And there's only one way now."

Ron put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a piecing look that reminded Harry eerily of Dumbledore. "Are you sure, mate?"

Harry nodded. "I have to. I… I _want_ to."

Lily pinched her chin softly between her thumb and forefinger, studied Harry and without looking away said, "Everyone out."

Nobody questioned her. Slowly everyone left the room, looking at Harry thoughtfully, cautiously, anxiously as they passed. The room was soon empty, safe for Ron, Hermione, Harry and Lily.

"I'm going to be standing here the whole time,' said Lily, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded with a wince. His scar burned and a surge of fury such as he had never felt before went through him like an electrical current. Harry hated to imagine what Voldemort was doing right now. He tried to relax; his mother's hand on his was soothing. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Slowly, he felt her touch melt away and became absorbed in a body that wasn't his own. Magic that wasn't his. Rage that wasn't his…

_He looked down at the splinters and fabric at his feet; all that was left of his bed. His chest heaved as he took shallow breaths. He gripped his wand tightly, the dust clearing slowly as he tried to calm himself. "How is this possible? _How_?" _

"_My Lord, it certainly fits with what the boy and I discussed months ago.' said a voice to Harry's left. 'He came to me asking what the Archway was for!" _

"_And you told him, did you Rookwood?' snapped Harry. He was beyond angry. 'You revealed ancient magics to your master's nemesis, yet neglect to inform you master himself?" _

"_My Lord, the powers of Cor y Cerwi were beyond our comprehension! We did not know…" _

"_You were an Unspeakable for seventeen years, Rookwood! It was your job, what I had assigned for you, to discover everything about everything the Department of Mysteries concealed from our world!" _

"_P-Please, my Lord! We did not know… we studied… but it became too dangerous! Many wizards went through but did not come out! We assumed the doorway to be a one-way portal!" _

"_And yet, Lily Potter is alive!' snapped Harry, sparks flying from the end of his wand. 'How do you explain that, Augustus? Death is meant to be end, and I personally saw to hers. I saw the life leave her eyes! I saw her crumple to the floor, never to move again! And yet, she walks around, living and breathing as if all I sacrificed sixteen years ago never happened!" _

"_Master, give me a chance… let me rectify this… let me discovery the secrets of the Archway…" _

"_Another opportunity to fail me, Augustus? I think not. Leave me!" _

_Rookwood literally ran from the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Harry fingered his wand furiously, his mind a frustrating jumble. How could this be possible? How could the boy have uncovered his, the Dark Lord's, most valuable secret? How could Dumbledore have known? He had taken such precautions… such care… _

_Harry walked over to the window and stood in front of an old table which held only one object. He ran his long, white fingers around the rim of the stone basin, feeling the cool texture with his fingertips. Rage boiled under his skin like a poison, threatening to consume him. The cups had been taken, all of them. The locket had been removed. This Pensieve, obviously a fake, had been swapped with the original. The diary lay forgotten in Dumbledore's office. Four of his precious six horcruxes, gone. The only comfort Harry took was that two remained, safe and secure, and he knew that Potter would not discover them in time. All the same, he made a note to keep Nagini out of harms way from now on. He had been careless enough all ready. _

_He rolled his wand between his fingers, surprised at how collected he seemed to be considering the circumstances. And at the same time he still couldn't figure out how this was possible. How had Potter found them? How had he discovered where the cup of Hufflepuff had been placed? How did he get the Pensive out of a heavily guarded muggle museum? Harry didn't linger on these thoughts. There would be time to ponder later. Now, there were much more pressing matters at hand. _

_An image of Lily Potter flashed into his mind, as it had flashed through Potter's as he had revealed everything to him. An image of her hugging Potter, both of them smiling as they stood holding each other in a warm embrace. Harry flinched as his head gave a painful throb. Was this all true? Had Lily Potter really cheated death? Had something in the Department of Mysteries brought her back from the beyond? What power was it? Harry itched to wield it; to control it. It was but another step on the road to immortality, but it too would have to wait. _

_For now, he had more pressing matters. Where to start, this was the problem. Hogwarts of course held its obvious appeal… then there was the Ministry, taking down the main defenses first would definitely be beneficial… he had to gather, bring his allies together…_

Harry stumbled back, the dining room of Grimmauld Place spinning back into focus. He felt a pair of arms steady him from behind as he blinked rapidly, his head swimming and his scar throbbing.

"You all right?' asked a deep voice.

"Yeah… thanks, Ron…"

"Did you see him?' asked a soft voice beside him.

Harry shook his head, the image of his mother swimming as he did so. "I _was_ him. I'm always him, like we're the same person in two different bodies, and I can just swap between the two."

"But you choose to stay in this one because it's more attractive.' grinned Ron, still holding Harry steady.

"Um… let go of me…"

Ron chuckled and released Harry.

"He's got the Pensieve with him,' said Harry, looking at Hermione. 'He's been to check on the others already. He knows we've got them. And I was right, Nagini _is_ a Horcrux, he's going to put her under some sort of protection so we can't get to her…"

"But there's still one more left,' said Lily. 'And we don't know what it even is."

Harry avoided Hermione's eyes. Ron shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. Lily didn't miss any of this.

"What? What's going on?' she demanded. 'Come on, spit it out!"

"Harry thinks…' started Ron, looking very uncomfortable. "Well… we've told him it's stupid…"

"Harry thinks he's a Horcrux." said Hermione firmly, giving Harry a look.

Lily looked at Harry, astounded. Harry looked at neither woman, his eyes locked on a spot on the far wall.

"Is this true?" demanded Lily.

"No." said Harry.

"Oh, well… good."

"I _know_ I'm a Horcrux."

Ron groaned and ruffled his hair. Hermione flared up again, but she didn't get to tell Harry what she thought of him for Lily got in first.

"Harry, don't be so absurd. How could you be a Horcrux? _Why_ would you be a Horcrux?"

"This is what I said to him…"

"Shut up, both of you.' snapped Harry, glaring at Hermione and Lily in turn. 'Mum, it's not absurd. I am a Horcrux. I know I am, and none of your arguments will change that fact. We don't have time to talk about this now, we have to get started."

Without waiting for any sort of response, Harry charged out of the room, up the stairs and found everyone stationed in the living room. As they had before when he'd stormed into the dining room, his sudden presence brought all their murmured conversations to a halt and drew all their eyes to him, wide and expected, their postures suddenly alert.

Harry clenched his jaws at his side. "Voldemort's getting ready to attack."

At these five simple words, everyone was on their feet, wands out. The uproar of voices was almost deafening, and Harry didn't know where to being with them. They were shouting plans, fears, and strategies at each other all at once. Their moment of panic did nothing to ease the nerves rising in Harry's stomach. His fingers twitched at his side, and he jumped when he felt someone take his forearm gently – it was Lily. She smiled at him, despite what he had just told her, despite their situation. It calmed him.

"… we have people everywhere,' Kingsley was saying, his deep voice booming over the noise, 'if He moves anywhere we can be there within seconds. Enough time to prevent him from causing any real damage."

"Seconds is all he'll need.' growled Moody. 'We need to have people everywhere _now_. _Us_, not Aurors or Ministry monkeys under Scrimgeours thumb."

"The Aurors are not buffoons, Mad-eye,' snapped Tonks defensively. 'And they make up crucial numbers. They're on the same side, even if they're not as actively participating as the Order is, and that's not their choice either."

"We don't know where he'll strike first…' started Fred Weasley.

"Hogwarts is the best bet,' said Remus thoughtfully, looking at Harry. 'His attack at Hogsmeade made us see how easily he could take that castle. We need extra security up there now."

"We need to evacuate, is more like it,' said Mr. Weasley.

Harry tuned out as Hermione tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to look at her and was stunned to see tears in her eyes.

"Hermione, _what_…"

"I hate to ask, especially now with all that you've got on your mind,' she said in a rush. Harry could tell she'd been bursting to ask him this for ages. 'But would you mind terribly if I brought my parents here? I know the Fidelius Charm is meant to protect them, but if, God forbid, Moody dies…"

"You don't even have to ask.' said Harry. 'This is as much your home as it is mine. Of course they can come here."

Hermione let out a sob and threw her arms around Harry. He stumbled back with a grunt and looked at Ron, who just stood there, arms folded over his chest with a smile and a shrug.

She released him and wiped her eyes. "I'll go get them now. I've had them ready to pack at a moment's notice. I'll be right back."

And with a 'crack', she was gone.

"… and what are we going to do with our friend upstairs? We can't very well leave him here without supervision, and we can't take him to the Ministry, especially if that's where we expect the Dark Lord to show next…"

Harry tuned back in, and whirled around to cut Moody off with a wave. "Wait… upstairs? Who's upstairs?"

They went quiet, and Harry suddenly felt very out of the loop once more. He frowned, looking at Ron, Lily, Moody and Remus in turn.

"It's Snape.' said Ron finally.

"Snape?' cried Harry. '_Snape's_ here? _Now_? Upstairs?"

He didn't need to hear anymore. Harry spun on his heel and sprinted from the room, back up the stairs. He didn't think to ask which room he was in; he'd bang down every door to find him if he had to. But it turned out the first door he opened was the right one; the study.

Harry thought he would be prepared for the next time he saw Severus Snape, but standing there in the doorway, looking at the man tied to a chair with ropes, his head hanging and his greasy black hair creating a curtain around his face, did not bring about the feelings he had expected.

"Harry…"

Lily skidded to a halt behind him. She peered around him into the room and sighed. "Its okay, he's unconscious. But we, er…we tied him to the chair just to make sure."

"How did you find him?' asked Harry, his voice steady.

Lily moved over as Ron jogged up the stairs and looked into the room over Harry's shoulder, a scowl of dislike on his face. "Actually, he found us. Right in the middle of Hogsmeade apparently. Remus said he caught you when you feinted. He said that when you were just about to pass out, you blurted out to Severus that Voldemort knew everything. He's the one who told us what you said – just before he surrendered to us and we stunned him, of course."

"He _surrendered_?"

"Handed you right over to Remus, literally, then tossed his wand to the ground,' said Ron. 'Was the daftest thing I've ever seen."

Harry walked in and bobbed down in front of Snape, peering up to his face like a child curiously investigating a spider on a leaf. The old feelings of hate appeared instantly, and Harry had a very immature urge to ruffle Snape's hair. Memory after memory flashed back as if he were watching a film; tormenting him in class, detentions, Occlumeny lessons, the last night at Hogwarts, Snape glaring down at Dumbledore… but unlike every encounter they had ever had, he felt calm and contemplative, not his usual irrational self. He didn't feel the need to blast him into a million pieces like he had so often in the past. Dumbledore's voice kept speaking in the back of his mind, keeping him grounded. Maybe it was because of everything Dumbledore's portrait had told him weeks ago, maybe it was in light of their current situation, Harry didn't know. He didn't have time to find out.

He pointed his wand at Snape's chest. "_Ennervate_."

Snape body jerked, and he emitted a tiny snort as if he'd been sleeping, and he sat up straight, flicking his hair out of his eyes with a jerk of his head. He blinked, looking a little dazed, but his eyes narrowed as he saw Harry getting to his feet in front of him.

Harry smiled. "Morning."

"Is this necessary?' asked Snape, jerking against his ropes. 'You have my wand."

"Ah, yes, but as you proved last time we saw you,' said Lily, coming to stand beside Harry, 'you don't need a wand to get away."

As he had the last time they had been together in Knockturn Alley, Snape looked up at Lily with a mixed expression of confusion, fear and wonder. It was the most open Harry had ever seen the old Potions master.

"Look, Snape, I don't have time to pass around witty banter with you,' said Harry. 'You've turned yourself in which means you're either sent here under cover by Voldemort… or you want to help us."

"Idiot boy,' snarled Snape. 'You think I would be foolish enough to return to the Dark Lord after what happened?"

"So you _are_ here to help us?"

Snape squared his jaw. "I assume you are about to wage war on the Dark Lord, yes?"

Harry saw no point in lying. "We're taking a stand tonight."

"Do you know where?"

"Not exactly, but there's only a few places he'd pick. He's pretty predictable. Unless… _you_ know where he'll be?"

Snape lowered his eyes, but Harry noticed them flickering in the direction of Lily every few moments.

Harry ruffled his hair. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You could try releasing me.' said Snape.

"Or I could put you back to sleep.' snapped Harry. 'God, why did you have to pick now of all times to just show up? I can't take you to the Ministry and I can't leave you here! But I have things to do!"

"I'll watch him.' said Lily.

Harry looked at her, stunned. Snape went oddly still.

"Mum… you _cant_! I won't leave you with him!"

"He's tied to a chair without a wand. What's he going to do?' chuckled Lily.

"But… he…"

"You have things you need to do.' said Lily, giving Harry a look. 'They don't need me to be there. The world needs The Boy Who Lived, not his mother."

Harry clenched his jaw. He looked over at Ron who was standing in the doorway still, looking determined yet patient. He looked back at Lily, who had both amber eyebrows raised. He didn't like leaving her alone with him one little bit, but she was right, and they were in a hurry.

He sighed, stood up to his full height and jabbed a finger at Snape. "I'll be back soon, and you better mind your manners around my mother."

Snape sighed, bored. "I quiver with fear."

Harry gave Snape one last glare, gave his mother's hand a squeeze and left the room with Ron.

Lily waited until both boys had left the room until she turned back to look at Snape. He was looking at her, his dark eyes found her dazzling green ones instantly. Lily sighed, pulled up a chair opposite him, sat herself down facing him and crossed her legs.

She smiled wistfully. "Hello, Sev."

-----------

"I don't know where to start,' admitted Harry halfway down the stairs.

"Let the Order deal with it,' said Ron encouragingly. 'You just worry about staying alive. Most of the focus is going to be on you."

"Yeah,' muttered Harry, 'I know."

"Did you get a sense of who he's got? Are we out numbered?"

"He seemed pretty calm about the whole thing. I think he's got more than we're expecting. Its going to be big, whatever it is."

Ron ruffled his hair. "We're going to need more people. You reckon, if it ends up at Hogwarts, the Centaurs will pitch in?"

Harry pushed the door open down to the dining room. "Who knows? He might even have them on his side already."

"I don't think they would go to him. Hermione's not back."

Looking around the Order, who had migrated back to the kitchen, Harry saw that Ron was right. Ron pursed his lips, and Harry understood.

"Don't worry,' he said, giving Ron a small smile, 'I'm sure she's fine."

Ron nodded, but didn't look convinced.

Harry begun to catch little snippets of everyone's conversation, his scar throbbing too much to let him truly focus. His mind was everywhere. It was upstairs with his mother and Snape, it was with Hermione and her parents, it was with Ron and his concern, it was with Ginny and Hogwarts, it was with Voldemort and his fury, it was with all he had to do tonight, all he had to plan, and it was wondering profusely in the back of his mind whether or not this was the last day he was going to continue to be a part of existence.

He tried not to think about that too much.

"… has Giants we need more wizards to take them down…"

"… takes Hogwarts, we need to alert Minerva McGonagall as soon as possible so she can begin to evacuate…"

"…any way we could do some last minute recruiting, get a message to the general public…"

"… should go alert the Muggle Prime Minister of this…"

"… wait and see where he starts, then we can send all of our forces…"

"No,' said Harry.

Everyone was silent. Harry hadn't spoken very loudly, but somehow everyone had heard him turned to look at him again at his tone.

For once, Harry wasn't intimidated by all these eyes on him. He stepped forward. "We need to go to him. We need to start this. For once, we're making the first move. I'm sick of waiting for him."

Remus stepped forward. "Harry, I know you're tired and you want this to be over…"

"I'm beyond tired.' said Harry flatly. 'I'm beyond scared. You think I don't know what's about to happen? You think I don't want to just run away and hide until it's all over? I'm standing at the mouth of hell and its going to swallow me whole. But you know what? It's going to choke on me.' He said, a determination surging through his voice. 'He thinks we're going to wait for the end to come. He thinks I'm just going to sit here and let him make the first move, like always. We're not ready? _They're_ not ready. We're not the black side of the chessboard anymore. We don't let him move first. We're an army, a strong army, and we'll make the ground shake with the force that we march. He wants a battle? We'll give him one. This is it. This is where it ends. Any of you want to run, do it now, because I'm making the first move, and he's going to come to me, and we're going to end this. _Tonight_. There is only one thing more powerful than evil on this planet, and that's us."

Not a person spoke. Not a person moved. Harry stared them all down, feeling much braver than he thought he would.

He lifted his chin and spread his hands expectantly. "Any questions?"

No one moved.

Harry smiled. "Good. Now, I know we have all these plans in place, but there are a few things we need to take into consideration. Like you said, Tonks, the giants. Does anyone have any practical ideas about this?"

There was a long silence, and then to Harry's surprise Charlie Weasley, right at the back, raised his hand.

"I might have something in mind.' he smiled.

* * *

A/N – Man, this was the hardest chapter _ever_ to write! And I'm still not happy with it! This is part one of two; otherwise this chapter would have gone on far too long. Thinking about it now, I think it may be too short! I'm sorry for a pitiful return after such a long absence. I've had no inspiration lately at all, and it's been very frustrating, having this story bouncing around in my head and not being able to get it out to all of you! Again, thank you all for your endless patience!

Please review!


	47. Chapter 462

Chapter 46.2!

* * *

Why was it that when you really needed to, you couldn't remember anything about Trigonometry?

The teenage boy sniffed in sarcastic amusement and looked out the window. Who really cared about Trig anyway? Who cared about Calculus or Pie or what the bloody hell X actually was? After all he had lived through in the past six years, all he had experienced, learned and discovered, things like good test scores and which University would be the best for his future career seemed so trivial and irrelevant.

His mind wandered away from his test and outside to the clear, Thursday morning. The senior Math classroom had a nice view of the park across the street. Green grass and a large oak tree. He liked sitting under that tree. It reminded him of his old school.

He ruffled his hair, blew air out through his lips and looked back down at his test again. He frowned, resisting the urge to screw up his test, chuck it in the bin and throw his pen as hard as he could at the wall. Around him the room was silent; twenty three other students each attempting to finish the same test that lay half-started on the desk in front of him. They were deep in concentration, none of them daydreaming or looking around like he was, and so determined to do the same he turned back to the paper in front of him and tapped his pen against his cheek.

_Find the product_.

He ground his teeth together. He didn't want to find the sodding product. He didn't care if the product stayed lost forever. He looked outside again, aching to be somewhere else, _anywhere_ else, but here. Who cared about Trig when you could be learning how to turn a footstool into a pig, or brew liquid Gold, or flying on a broomstick high above the ground, clouds beneath your feet?

"Psst!"

Turning back around, he looked for who had summoned him with the low hiss, but no-one was looking expectantly at him. He frowned. Must have just been someone sneezing. He fiddled with his pen and began to write.

"Psst! Hey, Justin!"

He frowned again. That was no sneeze. Confused, he turned in his chair to face the boy sitting behind him.

"What?" he whispered harshly.

The slightly chubby blonde boy behind him looked up and blinked, surprised. "What?"

"What do you want?' muttered Justin.

"I don't want anything."

"You just 'psst'ed' me, Carlisle!"

"No I didn't!"

"You did, I heard you!"

"I swear I didn't!"

"Well then who…"

"Mr. Finch-Fletchly!"

The teacher's voice was booming compared to their whispers. Justin whirled around and looked at the man seated at the head of the room. His teacher said nothing, just twitched his pencil moustache and jabbed a finger at Justin's table.

Justin pursed his lips. "Sorry sir."

His teacher gave Justin one last look before disappearing behind _The Times_ once again.

Justin peered over his shoulder again at Carlisle. Apparently, judging by the strain on his jaw and the knot of his brow, he did not appreciate being accused, and then almost gotten into trouble for something he didn't even do in the first place. Justin repressed a smile; Carlisle was very uptight when it came to schoolwork. He wanted to be a scientist and find a cure for Diabetes, and nothing was going to stop him.

Justin hated to think how Carlisle would survive if _his_ mother suddenly decided that what he wanted didn't matter.

"Hey, down here…'

And Justin almost leapt out of his chair when something tapped him gently on the knee.

"Don't move, be quiet." said the low voice again.

Justin rolled his pen anxiously between his fingers and, keeping as neutral as he possibly could, looked out of the corner of his eye. There was nothing, just Sandra Jenkins seated at the desk just a few feet away, concentrating profusely on her test.

And that's when he saw it. Out of thin air, the tip of a wand appeared, pointing itself toward the teacher. Justin tensed, a million things running through his mind of what was about to happen with no way of stopping any of them. But birds didn't suddenly appear and attack, there was no green light to consume and make him fall never to get up again, there was no light at all. No sound, just a feeling of magic ripple past him, ruffling the sleeve of his white shirt as it passed. Justin watched his teacher, waiting for something to happen, but the middle-aged man simply continued to read his paper, completely oblivious to everything.

But it didn't stop there. The wand aimed to everyone in the room in turn – all except Justin himself. And despite his better judgment, despite how he should have been feeling about an unknown, invisible wizard in his classroom doing God knows what to everyone, he felt oddly at ease. The fact that the wizard was not aiming at him made all the difference.

After a few moments, the wand disappeared and there was silence, and Justin wondered if he hadn't just imagined the whole thing in a moment of madness.

"Don't look down.' said the deep voice in a whisper. 'Pretend you're still working."

Justin stiffened and looked down at his test, pen hovering a millimeter from the paper as he pretended to write something. He didn't know why he was listening; why he trusted this stranger. They could have been a Death Eater, but somehow he didn't think so. A Death Eater wouldn't have hidden like this; a Death Eater would have just stormed in and killed everyone. Besides, the voice sounded vaguely familiar.

"They'll still be able to hear you,' whispered the voice, 'so you'll have you keep your voice down."

"What did you do to them?"

"_Muffliato_. Don't worry, it doesn't hurt them, they just can't overhear us."

Justin frowned and turned his head slightly toward his invisible visitor. "Who are you?"

"It's me, Justin. It's Harry."

"Harry _Potter_?"

"Yeah, mate." he chuckled softly.

An unknown feeling overwhelmed Justin. He and Harry had never been close friends, but just the sound of his voice, knowing he was there right beside him, knowing he still existed was so good it was nearly impossible to sit still. But Justin was no fool, and despite his chest swelling with excitement he frowned and straightened up.

"Who was it that told us Umbridge was onto the DA back in fifth year?" asked Justin.

"Dobby.' said Harry without hesitation.

Justin relaxed again and smirked. "Sorry, I just had to… you know, Ministry was right for once, and… _blimey_, it's good to hear your voice."

"Why Justin, I had no idea you felt that way.' chuckled Harry softly.

"No, not like that.' whispered Justin with a smile. 'And not that I'm not happy to see you… or not. How are you…?"

"It's an Invisibility Cloak.' He answered.

Justin coughed, trying to hide his splutter of amazement. "You _have_ one of those? That's awesome. No wonder you've been able to get away with so much bollocks all these years.' Justin could hear him smile. 'So, what are you doing here, Harry?"

"Actually, I need your help."

Justin frowned. "_My_ help? What for? How'd you find me anyway?"

"Wasn't too hard. I figured, you know, after last year…' Harry paused, '… I heard lots of people didn't go back to Hogwarts, particularly Muggleborns."

"Yeah, I tried to keep it all from my Mum. I knew she'd freak if she found out about everything that's been happening. She was never that keen on me being a wizard in the first place. But she found copies of the _Prophet_ in my room and everything went balls up from there."

"What happened?"

Justin clenched his jaw. Nearly a year later and the day was still fresh in his mind. "Mum forbade me returning to Hogwarts. She took all my spell books, my cauldron, my robes, she got rid of Frank…"

"Frank?"

"My owl. She took him to some wildlife sanctuary in bloody West Yorkshire! She wanted to cut me off completely, to keep me safe. She thought I could just revert back to how things used to be. But how could I, Harry? After everything we've seen… after everything we know…"

Justin stopped and looked out the window again. His mother's screams, begging him to see reason, pleading with him not to return to the Wizarding world, to war, still rang in his ears.

"Did she get your wand?' asked Harry after a long silence.

"She thinks she did.' said Justin, his hand moving over his right pocket.

"Good. You're going to need it."

Justin took another look around to make sure that no-one was listening. Indeed, as Harry had said, it seemed as though no-one had heard a word of their conversation, thought it was strange that Justin was seemingly talking to himself.

"What's going on? Really?' he asked softly. 'You didn't come all this way to chat."

"Ernie MacMillan hasn't told you?"

"How do you know I'm still talking to Ernie?" asked Justin, surprised.

"That's how I found you.' said Harry. 'Ernie told me you were going to school here now. Said he'd been keeping in contact with you through the muggle post cause his owls kept getting turned away."

Justin smiled. "He doesn't trust himself with a phone. He's only been able to tell me what's been in the _Prophet_, and you and I both know how reliable a source _they_ are."

Harry didn't respond right away, and Justin suddenly felt nervous.

"That bad, huh?"

"That bad."

"Are Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley still with you?"

"Yes."

"Can't be too bad for you then, can it?' joked Justin.

"No.' said Harry. Justin could hear him smiling again.

"You guys with that Order of the Phoenix? Is it still together?"

"Yeah… which brings me to why I'm here."

Justin blinked. "You want me to join?"

"Kind of.' said Harry softly. 'There are other wizards here? At this school?

Justin nodded. "We all tried to stick together. You know, so we could be our own links to the Wizarding world, even if some of our parents were determined to cut us off."

"Who's here?"

"Well, there's Hannah… "

"Abbot?"

"Yeah. And Megan Jones, she was in Hufflepuff with us… Terry Boot from Ravenclaw… the Patil twins…"

"Parvati and Padma are here too?' asked Harry, startled.

"Their Dad didn't want them back at Hogwarts after the business with Dumbledore.' said Justin. 'Padma told me they got into a huge fight about it… that they wanted to go back, like the rest of us… but their old man wanted them safe and apparently he figured the Muggle world was as safe as you could get."

"But they don't know anything about muggles!"

"Yeah, we got Terry to get them to convince their parents to send them here so we could look after them. They're doing all right. They know how to use the television properly now.' grinned Justin.

"House unity.' chuckled Harry softly. 'Dumbledore finally got his wish."

"Even if we had to leave Hogwarts to do it.'

Harry sighed, and Justin felt him brush up against his shin as he shifted.

"What's going on, Harry?' asked Justin again.

There was a long pause and Justin could feel the tension. This was the reason Harry had come all this way, he knew, but he also seemed reluctant to talk about it now he was here.

Justin checked his watch. "Look, there's only five minutes left before the bell goes, so just spit it out whatever it is."

Harry was silent again for a long moment. "I'm ending the war tomorrow, Justin."

From the minute Harry had mentioned the Order of the Phoenix, this had been Justin's suspicion, but hearing these words still almost knocked him out of his chair. He tensed and instinctively reached for his pocket, as if dozens of Death Eaters were about to burst into the room at any moment. It was only then he realized his hand was shaking.

"I don't suppose you're going to end it all over a nice game of polo?"

Harry laughed softly. "Sadly the pitch was booked."

"When?' demanded Justin. 'Where?"

"That's it?' said Harry, surprise evident in his tone. 'You don't want to know why?"

"I know why. Ernie told me all about how you're 'The Chosen One' now. This has been a long time coming, hasn't it?"

"Well… yes, I suppose…"

"I'll talk to the others.' said Justin, now knowing why Harry had come. 'I'll tell them what's going on, but I don't know if I can be… my Mum, I kind of promised her…"

"Its fine, Justin,' said Harry reassuringly. 'I don't expect any of you to be there, I just thought you'd like the option."

"What time? Where?"

"Hogwarts. You still got your DA coin?"

"It's in my pocket all the time."

"I'll let you know when that way."

Justin nodded, feeling overwhelmed by all this. He hadn't had anything to do with wizards, magic or anything of the like for months because he had promised his mother. It had killed him, but he had done it. And in just a few short minutes everything had been thrust back into his life with one swift blow and despite the situation they were suddenly in, Justin couldn't help but laugh.

"Look, I'd better go…' said Harry.

"Yeah, right. Got things to do."

"Lots of things."

"You'll be right, you know that?' said Justin. 'You-Know-Who hasn't got anything on you, mate. You've got more lives than a cat. You're gonna be fine."

"Thanks Justin."

There was a ruffle of a cloak, the signal that Harry had gone. Justin looked down at his test and smiled grimly. He had not answered one question, and in the space of question five saved for working out the mathematical problem, he had, without realizing it, drawn a rough sketch of the Hufflepuff crest.

"Um… Justin?"

Justin jumped. "Harry! I thought you'd left!"

"I did, but I thought of something else."

"What that?"

"Well, I just wanted to say… you know, because I might not have another chance… about that business in second year… you know, in Dueling Club, with the snake…"

Justin laughed and bent down, pretending to retrieve something from his bag. "Really, Harry, it's water under the bridge. Forget about it."

Harry's hand suddenly gripped Justin's and shook it tightly. "See you."

The bell rang, causing Justin blink and look up. The loud roar of chairs scraping backward against the floorboards deafened him as dozens of students got up and made their way to the front to drop off their tests. Justin reached out blindly, feeling the air beside him, but it was empty. Satisfied Harry was gone and receiving a strange look from Carlisle as he passed, Justin hastily got to his feet, dropped his empty test on the teacher's desk, face down, and ran from the classroom. He didn't care about test scores. He didn't care about how much trouble he would get in for leaving it blank. He needed to find one of his friends _now_.

He looked around, eyes wide and ready for someone he knew, and it only took him a few minutes until he spotted a familiar wavy haired brunette head bobbing above the sea of students at the opposite end of the hall, just about to walk outside.

"_Terry_! Oi! Terry, wait!"

Terry Boot looked around and stopped to wait for Justin to catch up. Terry was only a few inches taller than Justin, but from the way he carried himself, upright and dignified while Justin bent over double to catch his breath, he seemed to tower over him.

Terry laughed and clapped Justin on the back. "You right? Blimey, Juzzie, you look like you just swam the Channel!"

"Have you seen Hannah?"

"Yeah, I just had English with her, she ducked into the ladies. Said she'd meet us outside. Why are you…? "

"What about the Patil's? Megan?"

"We're all having lunch. Justin, what's wrong? You look like the world's about to come to an end!"

Justin just grabbed Terry's wrist, his old Ravenclaw school tie warn there like a wristband, and dragged him outside. "I have to tell you guys something."

-------------------

Draco folded up his jeans neatly and placed them in his trunk. He picked up his green jumper, folded it just as immaculately, and placed it too in his trunk. His socks, rolled up, another pair of black pants, folded, that long black trench coat Tonks had bought him for Christmas…

He paused, examining the coat. He ran his thumb across the fabric, the corner of his mouth twitching. He remembered how excited she'd been, thrusting the messily wrapped package into his unsuspecting hands, practically wetting herself in anticipation, her eyes wide and bright. Christmas had obviously been a big deal for her and her family. Draco had had wonderful Christmases in the past; receiving every present he had desired, money no object. But they had never been presented to him with such enthuasim before. He'd feared she would collapse to the floor in some sort of hyperactive seizure. But, in good graces he had politely thanked her for his gift and opened it to find this coat inside. It wasn't the finest coat he had ever owned; certainly not the most expensive. But it was surprisingly nice, and fit him well, and he had thanked her with a small smile. She had almost feinted with relief.

Back in the present, Draco laid the coat aside and continued to pack what few possessions he had. The task only kept his hands busy, however, and his mind began to wander.

He had heard about what was going to happen tomorrow, and he had so many different feelings about it he couldn't work out which was the right one. How was he supposed to feel? Excited? Worried? Scared? Triumphant? He felt all these and more. His fate was, as yet, undecided, and he didn't feel right asking anyone about it right now. Harry would be far too busy to deal with him, Tonks was at the Ministry trying to get some Aurors she had been secretly trying to recruit together, and Remus… well, he was just out of the question. He needed someone that was just his. Someone he didn't have to share with the rest of the world.

His thoughts went out to his mother.

He wanted to see her again. He wanted to be able to see with his own eyes that she was all right. He hadn't heard anything of her since Christmas. He knew his father was at least safe and alive, locked up somewhere in one of the Auror cells, but his mother's fate was unknown, and it was scary. Would she be fighting tonight? Maybe he could see her again. Maybe in just a few short hours they could be reunited.

Because that's all that was left… a few hours.

The thought sent a shiver up Draco's spine. A few hours and it could all be over. This war, Potter's life, Voldemort's life, heck anyone's life, the Wizarding world as they knew it… so much was at stake, and waiting on the Eve of such a historical moment was almost has maddening as the moment itself. It wasn't even Draco's responsibility to worry about the mechanics of it all, and yet the magnitude of what lay ahead made him feel anxious and on edge. What was going to happen to him? To his mother? Would they make it through the night? Would they live to see Saturday morning? Would…someone who would remain nameless?

Draco shook his head, trying to clear it. He wasn't supposed to worry. His family were Death Eaters! They would be safe. Wouldn't they? What if someone from the Order killed his mother? What if he could do nothing to stop it?

He placed the last article of clothing into his trunk slowly and stared off into space. He would need to have a talk with someone, anyone, about the fate of his mother. She was off-limits. They couldn't have her. They'd already taken his father. His family was broken. How much more did they…?

"Hey, what did that jacket do to you?"

Draco blinked, snapped out of his train of thought and looked around at the doorway. Tonks was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over her chest and a smirk on her face. He frowned, wondering what she was talking about, but then he looked down at his hands; he was practically strangling the jacket, his knuckles white from the force of his grip. He relaxed his hands and smoothed out the fabric.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were at the Ministry, recruiting Nogtails for the slaughter."

Tonks sighed. "Don't be so negative. We need all the help we can get."

Draco said nothing, just looked down at his coat.

"You all right?"

"Fine, thank you."

Tonks frowned at him, trying to catch his eye, but his coat suddenly seemed to be of enormous interest. She sighed to herself and sat down on his bed, drumming her fingers of the lid of his trunk.

"Don't make me guess what you're thinking, Draco, its annoying. Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind, just this once. Humor me."

"Nymphadora, I am not a girl, and I do not require someone to who can blither on about all my issues."

Tonks pursed her lips. "Firstly, it's _Tonks_, and I won't tell you again. And secondly, talking about your problems helps you deal with them."

Draco gave her a look through his eyelashes. "Not for me it doesn't. And even if I did get past all my problems, I'm just going to go out and get new ones."

She looked at him for a long moment, before laughing. "Right. Dumb question. Of course, what _else_ would be bothering you? It's your mother, isn't it? You're worried about her."

He turned his back on her. How had she guessed? Was he really that transparent? Or could she actually know him that well by now?

"You should speak to someone with more authority than me. They can make sure she isn't hurt…"

"_I_ can make sure she isn't hurt.' said Draco firmly. 'I can take care of her."

"And how are you going to do that without a wand?"

Draco whirled around on her, and his expression was so hard she was actually concerned for a split second that he was going to hit her. He took two steps toward her and thrust his clenched fist toward her, but he didn't strike. Instead, he opened his fist, palm up, and inside appeared a small bundle of blue flames.

He pursed his lips, his grey eyes eerie from the light of the fire. "I'll improvise."

Tonks tried to hide her surprise. She knew he'd been practicing wandless magic, that he had been trying to have some ounce of control over it, but she didn't know he had progressed this far. She didn't know whether it was okay to congratulate him and tell him how impressed she was or not.

"And what makes you think you're going at all?" she asked.

"Potter will let me go."

"You're sure of this, are you?"

"He has no reason not to."

Tonks's chest hitched in a small laugh. "You'd actually fight _with_ us? On our side? Against the people you've grown up with?"

Draco closed his fist again, the flames disappearing. He said nothing.

"Are you scared?' she asked.

"Of course not.' said Draco indignantly. 'I'm just… I don't like this situation. If I stay with you and fight, and Potter wins, then I'm going to Azkaban. But if I run back to the Dark Lord, after everything that's happened, then I'm… I'm…"

He trailed off and looked out the window. Tonks wanted to place a hand on his shoulder, but knew he would not appreciate it.

Draco looked down at his feet. "I'm at a crossroads, and I don't know which path is the right path."

Tonks got to her feet. "Draco, did it ever occur to you that you're so caught up in trying to make the right choice that you've never stopped to consider the possibility that there may not be a right choice, or a wrong choice, just a bunch of choices?"

"Thank you, Nymphadora,' he said flatly, 'that's very helpful."

"That's the point. You don't need help.' she said. 'There's nothing to figure out here, only what you feel."

Draco said nothing, just conjured another small blue flame in the palm of his hand.

Tonks looked into the fire, momentarily entranced. "What do you want, Draco? What do you want to do?"

He snorted. "Now, that's no good, asking me that. All the things I really like to do are either immoral, illegal or fattening."

"Draco,"

He looked down at her, her heart-shaped face and pink hair lit with the blue light of the flame floating in his hand. "I just want to live past today."

"Yeah,' she nodded, 'we all do."

"Do you think Potter can do it?' asked Draco. 'Do you really think he can win this?"

Tonks nodded. "He's the Chosen One, not the 'He Was the Only One Around At the Time So He'll Have To Do' One. That's got to mean something, yeah?"

Draco shrugged elegantly. "If you say so."

Despite her earlier judgment, Tonks patted him friendly on the back. He didn't flinch away as she had expected, but just stood there, staring down at the bushel of fire in his hand. She headed toward the door, but stopped short and turned back to him.

"Hey, Draco?"

He looked around expectantly.

"Think fast!" she laughed.

With Seeker reflexes, Draco caught the object Tonks had tossed to him across the room. She was out of the room in the split second he had looked away. With one last look of hopelessness at the doorway, he closed his fist, extinguishing the flames and looked down at what he had caught.

His wand.

Draco's whole left arm tingled; magic suddenly bursting to come out, as if it had pooled into his entire limb for all these months. His fingers felt numb as he manipulated his wand, twirling it like a drummer twirls his drumstick. Shivers went up his spine as he gripped the cool wood in the palm of his hand. It was like being reunited with an old best friend. Like a missing limb being reattached. His entire body seemed to hum with an electrical current that only grew the longer he clutched his wand. It was indescribable having such a simple thing, something he had always taken for granted, back in his possession once again. He felt reckless, alert, in touch with everything. He wanted to levitate something, blow something up, turn something into a cat, send something to Alaska, Canada, Zimbabwe and back again…

He didn't know how to do that last one, but he still wanted to.

And yet, he did nothing. He didn't move an inch. He just stared down at his wand – Hawthorn and Unicorn hair, ten inches, springy – and it felt so familiar in his hand. So right. It was still polished immaculately, as it had been the day he had handed it over to Tonks. Whatever she had done with it, she had kept it safe. He only just managed to suppress a smile.

Although his arm was going numb, magic bursting to be let out, he gently tucked his wand away in his pocket; as if afraid the slightest tremor would snap it in two. He'd made his decision with surprising ease. When he used proper magic again for the first time, not mundane and insignificant as it had been the few times Harry had let him borrow his wand, it wouldn't be in a childish manner. He wouldn't behave like a first year Muggleborn, excited and sloppy and happy just to be able to cast anything. It would be dignified, and it would be controlled, and it would be powerful.

It would be something to remember.

-----------------

Ron paced back and forth in front of the piano, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his side. In the back of his mind, he was sure he was pacing a trench in Harry's floor, but he didn't care. He would apologize later when Hermione was home, and he could touch her, and he would know she was all right.

It had been just over an hour, far longer than her "be right back!" she had predicted. What had held them up? Why weren't they here yet? Had they run into trouble? Had Hermione and her parents been captured? Had they been…?

No, he refused to think like that. The only thing keeping him at Grimmauld Place and not apparating right over to her house was the fact that he was not the Secret Keeper, and therefore the Fidelius charm kept him away. It was maddening. He'd been to Hermione's house before, he knew where it was, but he just couldn't concentrate on it long enough to apparate there, like the harder his mind tried to grip on it the slipperier it became, like trying to hold soap. It was a strange feeling. He knew Moody would never tell him, and he knew he couldn't trick the answer out of him, and so he had no option but to wait.

If there was one thing Ron hated, it was waiting.

Especially for Hermione on the Eve of a war while she went to get her parents who were supposed to be hiding from Death Eaters because they could be targeted and killed to get to Hermione and by extension Harry. None of this was in any way a comfortable situation to be in.

Why didn't he go with her? Because she would have told him not to, that's why. Why didn't he insist he go with her? Because she would have cursed him for being so pushy and huffy with her and left him on the floor as a mutilated gerbil, that's why. She was too blasted stubborn for her own blasted good, and Ron knew, as frustrating as she was, it was part of the reason why he loved her so much.

But that still did none of them any good if she ran across Death Eaters and was outnumbered and something happened to her. If she or her parents got hurt just because Ron wasn't assertive enough…

He ran his hands through his flaming red hair as he turned and paced back again. He should have gone with Harry. That would have been better than this stupid waiting. But Harry hadn't wanted him to go with him either.

'Wait here,' he'd said. 'No doubt you're going to be the first one Hermione wants to see when she gets home."

Yeah, 'wait here'… like it was that easy.

Ron pulled his wand out of his pocket, pointed it at the vase on top of the piano and silently cast '_Wingardium Leviosa'_. The vase lifted at his command and hovered in the air. It was funny how this was the spell he would always cast when Hermione wasn't around. You would think he would cast it when she _was_ around, just to prove he could do it, and didn't need her to help him or correct his pronunciation anymore. He used to have so much trouble with this spell, and now it was simple as yawning or brushing his hair. Funny how far they'd come. Seemed like yesterday that something like his upcoming Potions final was the worst thing he had on his mind.

CRACK.

"Oh, dear God, Hermione, how can you travel like that? It's horrible!"

Ron had whirled around so fast he almost tripped over his own feet. Mrs. Granger was shaking herself off as if she'd just passed through a wall of cold water. Hermione was smiling at her as she rubbed her mother's upper arms; Ron was sure he had never seen anyone more beautiful.

"You get used to it, Mum, trust me. Oh, Ron, I didn't see you standing there! I'm so sorry we're late, family issues and all. Wait here with Mum, will you? I need to go get Dad."

And with another loud 'crack', she was gone.

Mrs. Granger sighed and sat herself down at Hermione's desk, crossing one leg daintily over the other. "So, this is the infamous Grimmauld Place? I only wish I could have come here under more pleasant circumstances."

Ron stared into the space Hermione had occupied moments earlier.

Mrs. Granger frowned at him. "Ron? You all right?"

"What? Sorry, yeah… just a bit…"

CRACK.

Ron was ready for it this time. Hermione let go of her father's hand and Mr. Granger was instantly at his wife's side.

"You all right, love?" Mrs. Granger laughed.

"Let my stomach catch up with the rest of me and I'll let you know." groaned Mr. Granger.

"You doubted me ability to get you both here safe?' demanded Hermione mockingly.

Mrs. Granger laughed. "After all that business you told us about splicing…"

"_Splinching_, Mum."

"Either way, sounds terrible.' said Mr. Granger with a shiver of revulsion. 'Why we couldn't just drive here, nice and safely, I'll never know."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow and reached into her left pocket. "Yes, because the majority of all accidents don't happen on roads.'

Ron frowned. How were they all so casual? How were Mr. and Mrs. Granger so calm? Did they think this was all some big joke? Did they think they were just coming over for Sunday tea? Ron thought of his own parents; his Father with his brow in a knot, wand clenched in his hand as he muttered to himself, pacing a trench in the floor. His mother, bustling around, trying to get all her children in the one room so she could see with her own eyes that they were, for now at least, all okay. Hermione's parents may not have understood magic, or their world, but they must understand _war_. Something like that transcended race, or language, or species, or sex, or time. It was universal. It was eternal. And it was terrifying.

"Hermione, do you have our things?"

"Yes, Dad, for the ten millionth time, they're in my pocket."

"Certainly would put the Occupation Health and Safety chaps a good night's sleep, all this saving manual handling."

"Enough, both of you. Can we just get settled already?"

"She started it."

"I don't care who started it, Paul, I'm finishing it! Hermione, lead the way please."

"Back in a minute, Ron!"

Ron watched wordlessly as Hermione, without looking at him, lead her parents out of the study and off to one of the spare rooms. He didn't even think to go after her, just sat down heavily on the piano stool behind him. He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and ran his hands through his hair. His heart was pounding hard in his chest and he only just realized he was breathing a little heavy. After a second, he recognized the feeling as sheer relief, and embraced it. She was all right. She wasn't hurt, and neither were here parents. They were fine. Everything was fine.

But he still wanted to touch her. Hear her steady voice. See her looking at him properly. He wanted to hold her, feel for himself that she wasn't limping, or bleeding, or bruised or sore. He'd barely been able to look at her. Sod her parents, and sod being appropriate in front of them. He needed to know she was all right.

He only managed to look up when he saw Hermione stride back into the room.

She looked at him. Really looked at him. In the long moment as they just stared at each other, her 'I'm completely in control' face melted, and he didn't need any more prompt than that. They met in the middle in a fierce hug, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders as he lifted her off her feet, squeezing her around her waist.

"Don't you ever take that long to do anything ever again, do you hear me?" he said, kissing her hair.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But they thought I was being silly when I had them packed to leave at a moment's notice so they unpacked everything and I had to make them pack again and then they had to call into work and arrange an alibi for their sudden absence and I had to convince them that everything was all right and…"

"It's okay.' he said, setting her back on her feet. He took her hands and kissed all over her face; her nose, her lips, her eyelids.

She sniffed in amusement. "Honestly, I was only gone for an hour!"

"Longest hour of my life."

"Have you been… you haven't been up here all this time waiting for me, have you?"

"No!"

Hermione quirked an eyebrow.

Ron sighed. "Sod off. I was worried about you."

"What for, silly? I only went home!"

"You were gone an hour! And you said you'd only be a few minutes! And we're in the middle of a bloody war here!"

"Well, yes, but…"

"And so I have to sit at home, waiting for you not knowing what the hell is taking you so bloody long while Mum buggers off somewhere and Dad locks himself in a room with Charlie and Harry goes off without anyone, telling me he doesn't want me to go with him…"

"Harry's done _what_?"

"And then you apparate in here without even looking at me!"

"I didn't ask you to sit here and wait for me, you know.' retorted Hermione. 'And what did you expect me to do? Snog the life out of you? In front of my _parents_?"

Ron stared at her for a moment, before laughing.

Hermione frowned. "What's so funny?"

"You.' he chuckled. 'When you say words like 'snog' or 'pillock' or 'damn'… it just sounds funny coming from you."

He hugged her again, his body still shaking from laughter. Hermione couldn't help but join him, her irritation melting away rapidly. He was like a whirlwind of emotion, going from anger to happiness or sadness to excitement in almost a split second.

"Sorry for snapping at you.' he said, kissing her again. 'Was just worried, is all."

"Wouldn't be us if we didn't find something to fight about. And on the eve of a war, no less."

Ron smiled.

"I'm sorry I took so long. But I really didn't think you'd be waiting for me. I figured you'd be with Harry. Where is Harry anyway?"

"Out."

"Out? Does he know he's declared war for just a few hours time?"

Ron shrugged.

"How can he be so reckless?" demanded Hermione, stepping back.

"Eight years of knowing the bloke and you're asking that _now_?"

"Every day, in a million different situations I ask myself that question.' she said, folding her arms over her chest. 'He just doesn't think! I mean, I know he has things to do… preparations… but by himself? How can he just be so… so _care-free_?"

"I could ask you the same question.'

Hermione frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

Ron saw her flaring up, but didn't care. "Well, you apparated in here with your parents, smiling as if they're here for a nice Sunday breakfast! Have you forgotten what's happening tomorrow?"

"Yes, Ron, I'm a complete idiot."

"How else do you explain it then?"

"I'm trying to be calm for my parents."

"And how are they so calm?' he demanded. 'They can't be any happier about you going off to war than my parents are!"

"Well…they, er…"

Ron frowned as Hermione went pink. "What? Out with it!"

Hermione sighed impatiently. "They don't actually know. About tomorrow."

"What?"

"I haven't told them. Why they're here or… anything."

"_What_?"

"Am I stuttering, Ron?"

"No, just….' He stared at her, dumfounded. 'Hermione, why the hell haven't you told them anything?"

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and shrugged. "I didn't want to worry them."

"_Didn't want to_…."

Her expression stopped him mid-yell. He ran his hands through his flaming red hair and sighed, trying to calm himself down. Now was not the time to be getting angry.

"I know I don't give you advice much, Hermione… most of the time just 'cause I know you won't take it… but you really should tell them the truth."

"You think I don't know that? You think I don't feel bad enough lying to them? They've just been so stressed about this whole thing already, and I didn't want to add to that!' cried Hermione as Ron began to pace. 'They considered quitting their jobs, changing their names, moving away… Mum wouldn't leave the house at all… Dad bought a double-barrel Shotgun for God's sake!"

"A double what?"

"The fact that I'm a witch, and a Muggle born at that, has given them no respite for so long. They know the discrimination I've faced. They know how my life has been with people like Malfoy.' She said, crossing to him, taking his hands, looking up at him, pleading with him to understand. 'I might be selfish not telling them, but I don't care. I've told them everything that's ever happened to me – everything – and this would just be the last straw. I can't do it to them anymore, Ron. I just wanted to protect them. If I tell them Dad will want to come, Mum will plead with me to stay behind, to run away with them and I don't know if I'm strong enough to refuse them. I'm sorry, Ron, I know it's wrong, but I just… don't know what else to do."

Ron's shoulders sagged. She looked helpless; something he wasn't used to seeing in her. She had an expression of mild terror, and it reminded him of when she was eleven, lying to Professor McGonagall for the first time, like she knew it was wrong, and yet it was the right thing to do at the same time.

He sighed. "So why do they think they're here?"

"They think Moody's going to give the house a thorough go-over. Make sure there's nothing they've missed. I wanted to say we were getting it fumigated, but that sounded like tripe, even from me."

"Fumigated? You know, for a pretty girl, you know a lot of strange words."

Hermione hugged him again, snuggling into the crook of his neck. He was warm, and soft, and tall, and he was just right to cuddle in to. His hands splayed on her back and pulled her even closer; he rested his cheek on top of her head and closed his eyes.

"I'll go with you if you want. You know… to tell them…"

"I can't tell them."

"Yes, you can. You have to. They're not stupid. They're going to figure out something's up. What with people running around everywhere looking scared and talking about a war tomorrow, I think they may get a bit suspicious."

"I just want them to be safe.' She mumbled. 'I want them to have piece of mind. I don't want them to worry about me."

Ron rubbed her arms and pulled back. "Well, at the risk of sounding mature and full of reason, I think your parents are going to worry about you as a general rule, impending war or no impending war. Its part of their job description. I'm sure when they go to their parenting classes they have before we're born, one of their main lessons is '_Always Panic_'. And if you're walking around with _that_ look on your face they will definitely worry because you're obviously not happy right now."

Hermione frowned up at him. "When did you get like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like… _this_. So perceptive and understanding."

Ron shrugged, his ears going red. "I didn't realize I was doing it. Should I stop?"

Hermione laughed and flicked a stray strand of red hair out of his eyes. "No, I've just noticed all of a sudden. How much you've grown up lately. It's nice."

"You know what else is nice?"

"Hmm?"

"Strip Wizard's Chess."

Hermione burst out laughing; her first real laugh in a long time. Her body shook and Ron felt a warm tingle hearing the beautiful sound again after such a long absence.

"If you for one second think you can get me to play such a thing with you at all, let alone today of all days…"

"Well why not?' he said. 'At least you'll be happy. And your parents won't worry about you because you'll be having fun. What's more fun than getting naked?

"Apart from everything ever?"

Ron laughed and kissed her. "All right then, come on. Enough of this moping. If this is our last day together I don't want any moping. Let's see if we can help Kingsley with something."

---------------------

"Marry me."

Remus looked up from his trunk of potion ingredients at Tonks standing in the doorway, a determined look on her face.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me.' she said, entering the room. 'Marry me."

Remus looked at her impatiently and removed two small vials from his trunk. "Dora, this is neither the time nor the place to be making such ridiculous jokes. Honestly, shouldn't you be rallying your Auror friends up right now?"

Tonks put her hands on her hips as she watched him. "First of all, I'm not six, so don't use such a patronizing tone with me. Secondly… what the hell are you doing wearing that jumper? I thought I told you to cast it and its horrible mustardy colour to the fires of hell."

"_Thirdly_?" sighed Remus.

"Thirdly… I want to marry you, plain and simple."

He stopped and looked at her with a small frown. "You're serious."

"Yes, I am!" she stopped. "What's that look for?"

Remus shook his head "Dora, you're thinking as many people before you in this situation, on the Eve of a war, have thought – _irrationally_. And I understand that, I really do. I've been through this once before; people are feeling reckless and scared and having quick, "shotgun" weddings..."

Tonks frowned, the roots of her hair going orange. "Don't stand there and tell me what I'm feeling, because you don't have a clue! I'm not being irrational or reckless and I sure as hell am not scared. This isn't one of those 'I don't want to die a virgin' things… Merlin knows you know _that_ isn't the case…'

Despite the mood, Remus couldn't help but smirk.

'… I've been thinking about it lately… I've been thinking about it a lot… and I think we should just do it."

Remus ruffled his hair, looking at her with wide brown eyes. Tonks just held his gaze, waiting expectantly for him to drop to his knees and scream 'YES!' and the top of his lungs.

After a long pause, he smiled sadly. "You don't want to marry me."

"Haven't you been listening at all? I just said I… oh, no, wait…' she smiled without humor and ran a hand through her hair. 'This isn't about what I want at all, is it? _You_ don't want to marry _me_."

Remus stopped his ministrations and stormed over to her, a hard blazing look on his face. He opened his mouth, ready to yell angrily, his posture stiff, and Tonks didn't even flinch. But he didn't say anything. His softened and sighed, suddenly looking every one of his thirty eight years.

"Why don't you want to marry me?" she asked softly.

"I never said that. You're putting words into my mouth."

"Well, you're not putting any in there, and I want an answer!"

"Now is not the time!"

"Now may be the _only_ time!' she grabbed him by the front of his shirt, demanding eye contact. 'There's absolutely no reason in the entire universe that would stop me marrying you, Remus. Don't feed me that tripe about you being too old or too dangerous again. Its complete bullshit. I let you turn me away once; I won't let you do it again."

Remus grabbed her hands and softly pried them away from him. "Decisions like this need to be well thought-out."

"No they don't!' said Tonks. 'What's to think about?"

"Everything!"

"But isn't this where it was all heading anyway?' retorted Tonks. She stepped away from him in a huff and glared at him. She was hurt. Hurt and angry by his rejection. 'God, this _frustrates_ me about you! You have this compulsive need to think about every little step before you even take one! For Merlin's sake, Remus! Haven't you ever done anything impulsive and reckless in your entire life?"

"I used to.' he muttered.

Tonks's anger abated instantly as she realized what she had said; when she realized what he was talking about.

Remus looked at the floor. "I used to be so reckless. So brave. I sometimes wish that you could have seen me like that. Properly, that is. I know you heard about us back then, at school, all the things the famous Marauder's used to get up to… I wish you could have seen me young and smiling and fun and adventurous and all the things you deserve. I used to be like that, Dora, and I wish I could be like that now – for you. But it was ripped from me, all in one night, and it took me so long to rebuild myself from that, to hide away everything that I used to be, that I don't think I could do it all again."

Tonks tried not to get emotional. "Oh Remus… I'm so sorry…"

She took his hands again, and this time he didn't resist. She took his face in her hands and kissed him softly, feeling that moment of hesitation she always felt. He was always so careful, so guarded, as if afraid he'd hurt her.

Remus laughed softly. "You know, if James and Sirius were here, they'd tell me to stop being such a poncy git and take you to the nearest church right now."

"Shame they're not here then, isn't it?' said Tonks, snuggling into him.

"Yes.' said Remus softly. 'Yes, it is a shame."

"I'd never leave you, you know that, right?"

He didn't answer right away. "Sometimes I catch myself thinking about us. I see us in ten years time, with two kids and a cat and a mortgage… but then I think of all the prejudice I've received over the years, all the looks and the comments whispered behind hands, the shun from everyday life and I don't want that for you or any children we may have. I know how much it affects someone, and I want you to have a life better than that. You deserve far more than I can give you, and if I married you all it would give you is a constant struggle. Life isn't meant to be that hard."

"Tomorrow marks the end of an Era, no matter what side wins.' said Tonks. 'A new world is going to be created in just a few short hours, and I know without a doubt that it's going to be better than this one, because there are people who will not let this sort of behavior continue.. Look at Hermione, for example, and her crusade for Elfish rights. No-one in their right mind would have thought of even going anywhere near that subject with a ten-foot pole five years ago! But whole new generations come into play, Hermione's generation, and look at what they can do! Look at the ideas they have! Such brilliance and wisdom. New eyes in which to see old ways through, intelligence to shape them in a way we never could. Things will change; it's a part of nature. Look how far we've come in ten years as a society. Ten years ago they thought they could do nothing for Lycanthropy, and now they have the Wolfsbane Potion. In another ten years they could even have a _cure_ for Lycanthropy and you wouldn't even have to worry about it. You don't know what kind of world our kids will live in.' she paused and smiled. 'It feels nice to say that."

Remus gently wrapped his fingers around her wrists. "I don't want to have to wait another decade. I want it all now."

"We can. We can have anything."

"We can dream, that's all."

Tonks pursed her lips. "I want to marry you. I don't want social approval now, I want you now."

Remus grimaced. "Dora, really…"

"You're not dangerous.' she said firmly. 'You're not too old. I don't care if you're unemployed, or have grey streaks in your hair, or get worse PMS than I do once a month…"

"PMS?"

"Pre-Moonlight Syndrome."

Remus rolled his eyes.

Tonks kissed him again. "I love you, so so much, like my body aches for you to be next to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be your wife. I want you to be my husband. _You_, Remus John Lupin, Lycanthropy be damned."

Remus felt himself melting. He gripped her hips with his fingertips. "Dora, please be reasonable…"

"Reason is ridiculous, and it has no place in love.' she whispered. Her fingertips ran along his jaw line, the nape of his neck, his shoulders, and she felt him relax at her touch. 'Come on, Remus… marry me."

"But, Dora this war… it's…"

"The war is just an excuse. If we want to spend the rest of our lives together… well, tomorrow might _be_ the rest of our lives."

"I… I don't…"

"I know you want to.' she murmured, her lips kissing the corner of his mouth. 'Come on. Show me the reckless boy you used to be, so I can marry the man you are now."

Remus's eyes fell shut as she kissed just below his ear. "Oh… all–"

"I don't think this is the bath– … oh, sorry!"

Mr. and Mrs. Granger watched sheepishly as Remus jumped away from Tonks as if she had given him an electrical shock.

"Sorry, do excuse us,' muttered Mrs. Granger, grabbing her husband's hand and trying to give him a hint, 'we were just looking for a bathroom… Hermione hasn't properly shown us around…"

"No, its fine… we were just… er…' Remus sighed, rubbed his jaw and held his hand out. 'Hello, I'm Remus Lupin. I taught Hermione some years ago at Hogwarts."

"Oh yes, right! I'm Paul, and this is my wife, Jean…"

Tonks didn't see Remus shake their hands, and she didn't see Remus look at her awkwardly out of the corner of his eye. She had turned away, her back to them and wrapped her arms around herself, using every once of willpower she had left not to burst into tears.

"… dreadfully sorry to be interrupting you,' Hermione's mother was saying, 'we, er… this house is rather large, you see…"

"It's not a problem.' Remus looked over at the back of Tonks and sighed inwardly. He gave a tiny smile at the Grangers. 'I'd be happy to show you around."

"No, really, we can manage.' said Mr. Granger, eyeing Tonks.

"No, it's all right,' said Remus. He looked over at Tonks and sighed. 'It can wait."

--------------

"You know who you look like right now? Your Father."

"You really know how to compliment a man."

"Well, look at you! All sour and sad and upset and… old."

Lily tilted her head to the side and smiled. "What, you're just going to let me get away with that, are you?"

Snape shifted uncomfortably. "There's really not a whole lot I can do now is there? Being restrained and all."

"Oh, now, do be so modest.' She laughed. 'I remember you used to have some pretty good comebacks in your time."

"Now is not the time to be reminiscing.' He sneered. 'Shouldn't you be with you son?"

"I told him I'd watch you."

"Like some ill-behaved child?"

"Weeeeell, you said it, not me."

It had only been two hours, but it had seemed like years that she sat in front of him. She never tired, she never raised her voice, she never stopped smiling. Snape was at a loss as how to behave in front of her. She shouldn't be alive. She shouldn't be sitting just a few feet away from him, close enough to smell her perfume, close enough to be able to touch. She would make small talk, as if it were completely natural for him to be tied to a chair without his wand in one of the spare rooms of one of his most hated old rival's parent's house. Did she really not know how peculiar this all was?

Lily ran a hand through her hair and blew air out through her lips. "Well, one thing's for sure…you've certainly lost your gob."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You used to talk my ear off and now…" she trailed off and frowned at him. "Time has done you no favors, Severus. No favor to neither of us."

Snape coughed, and Lily realized that he was laughing at her. "What concept have you of _time_? Sixteen years has passed by in seconds for you. For the rest of us, it actually has been sixteen years. Sixteen _years_. That's five thousand, nine hundred and four days. That's one hundred and forty one thousand, six hundred and ninety six hours. One hundred and forty one thousand, six hundred and ninety six long, _excruciating_ hours…' he paused and let out a short breath, '…without you."

"And that's still not long enough for you to embellish your guilt.' said Lily.

He flinched. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh yeah. Harry told me all about you, Severus. Everything you've done for your lord and master. Overheard any good prophecies lately through the keyhole of a tavern door?"

Lily didn't think it would ever be possible for Snape's naturally pale skin to go any whiter, but what little colour he had in his face drained as if someone had pulled out his plug. She said nothing, just quirked an amber eyebrow, her expression indecipherable. She heard him mutter things like "Dumbledore" and "Git" and "Should have done it earlier."

Snape bowed his head, unable to look at her eyes. "I couldn't… I didn't know…"

"You didn't know it meant Harry? So what?' she snapped. 'You still would have been responsible for the death of other people. You think that it's okay, just because you don't know them? You think it makes it any less wrong? Just because it would haven't been us?"

"At least you would have been safe.' He said softly.

Lily sighed. She felt fourteen again. "How many times do I have to tell you? I don't need anyone to protect me. Not James, not Harry, and certainly not _you_."

"Can I help it? What, with you tripping over your own feet all the time, cutting your thumbs in Herbology, burning yourself in Potions…"

"Is that _humor_ I'm getting from you?' she laughed. 'Actual, real life humor?"

Snape said nothing, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Lily put her hands on her head and regarded him, deep in thought. "I should be furious with you. I should curse you where you sit. You gave Voldemort information about Harry. You're the whole reason we had to go into hiding in the first place. You're the reason I missed out on Sirius's twenty first birthday. On Remus's first real job. The reason I could never properly say goodbye to my parents. You've treated my son horribly for the past seven years. And yet… I just can't be angry at you."

"That's a change.' muttered Snape.

"I've wasted so much energy being angry with so many people, and I just can't to it anymore.' she said softly. 'I was angry at Petunia for the way she raised Harry, I was angry with Peter for what he did to us, I was angry at you for choosing them instead of…' she paused and pursed her lips. 'This may be my last night alive and I don't want to spend it hating you. You… my most oldest friend…' She trailed off and laughed, gesturing to him. 'Look at you, Sev. Look what you've become. We could have had such a better life than this."

Snape looked at her then. "_We_?"

Lily faltered. "You. I meant you. If you had only done what I asked you to do all those years ago, if you'd only walked away from those ridiculous Slytherin friends of yours…"

"What?' snapped Snape. 'What if I had? How would my life be any better? You still would have been with Potter. You still would have chosen him, because he was better, had better morals, looked better in a Quidditch uniform, whatever. You couldn't have us both. We tried that, remember? It didn't work. You chose your life, Lily, and I chose mine. There's no going back. Not for either of us."

"We don't have to go back.' said Lily. 'You're here now, with us. You can fight with us tomorrow. It's not too late for you to do what's right."

"Always trying to save me.' said Snape, shaking his head. 'What would your dear husband think of your behavior? What would your son think?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Stubborn as ever."

Snape thought that the excited buzzing in his veins that had begun the second Lily had walked into the room would have stopped by now, but it seemed to have done the complete opposite. He could barely sit still now, flinching and shifting against his binds, hoping she would think he was just uncomfortable. Being near her was intoxicating. He wanted to hold her, touch her, kiss her, shove her playfully. Being near her made him feel eleven years old again, when they were just two excited children, their eyes wide with possibilities and their futures seemingly perfect. That was before Hogwarts. Before the Sorting Hat. Before Gryffindor and Slytherin. Before Potter and Black and anyone else. When there was just the two of them. When it hadn't mattered that she had Muggle parents. When there had been no-one to present new opinions, new outlooks on life, new points of view presented with such sweet, seductive voices and lovely promises. When there was just Lily. Not Muggle-born Lily, or Prefect Lily, or Head Girl Lily… just Lily. _His_ Lily, brighter than the sun and lovelier than her namesake. When she was all and only his.

The day she had died, he had died. He'd felt so much pain, so much anguish the day she had told him, with a cold expression that looked so wrong on her beautiful face, that she did not want to be his friend anymore. After that day he'd never thought anything would ever hurt more. But then she had died, gone forever, and to think that it had partially been because of him… Why hadn't he just listened to her all those years? Why hadn't he just walked away? Walked back to her?

Snape looked at her now, a thirty eight year old woman, and marveled at her. Her long red hair, the small row of freckles across her nose, her earlobes that had always been a funny shape to him, but had earnt him a laugh and a punch to the arm if he had ever commented, her long fingers, her beautifully straight and elegant posture… she was almost exactly the way he remembered her, only sixteen years older.

He frowned in confusion. "How are you here?"

Lily sighed. "Just when I thought I was rid of that blasted question…"

"I'm sorry I missed the explanation."

"How do _you_ think I'm here?"

Snape lifted his chin and surveyed her. "You can't possibly have been brought back to life. That's impossible."

Lily smiled. "Is it?"

"Everybody knows it is."

"Just because Dumbledore said so?"

"Did you go into hiding?"

"I was already _in_ hiding! You expect me to hide from my hiding place? And without Harry?"

Snape looked out the window. "I imagined you coming back so many times in so many ways. That it was all some scheme Dumbledore had come up with. That you weren't really…' he paused and looked at her. 'I must have thought of a million things to say to you if I ever had the chance again – just one more chance."

"Well, you've got your chance now,' said Lily, getting comfortable, 'what do you want to say to me?"

He said nothing. What could he say? "I love you."? "I wish you'd chosen me instead of him"? "I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to walk away"? He wanted to say all this and so much more. He'd dreamt of nothing more for nearly twenty years, but faced with the opportunity now he found himself, quite uncharacteristically, completely inarticulate. He'd kept it all bottled up for so long, buried it so deeply, that he didn't know how to bring it back to the surface. He opened and closed his mouth, feeling like he was nine years old again, hiding behind a bush, watching her on a swing with her sister and wondering how best to talk to her. She just looked at him, and she was intimidating without even knowing it. Why couldn't she just hear his thoughts? Why couldn't she just look at him and know? She used to be able to. Time and anger had smothered the skill.

The silence stretched on and on, and Lily finally realized he wasn't going to say anything. He never really had been the type to talk about what was on his mind; she had always had to guess. He was looking at her expectantly, and she knew he was waiting for her to guess again, like back at school.

Feeling uncomfortable, she changed the subject.

"Where have you been all this time? After you and Draco ran off together."

"Well we certainly didn't elope if that's what you mean."

Lily laughed. Snape flinched.

"We hid in the Forest for a while, just to get our bearings – much to young Draco's disgust.' he continued. 'I didn't want him there anymore than he wanted to be there, but I couldn't allow him to go back home. I knew the Auror's would be waiting there with an arrest warrant, and he knew that too. It would have been foolish to return."

"So you lived in the Forest for three months?"

"Certainly not. We would move every day. Most of our time was spent in the Shrieking Shack."

"I would have thought the Aurors would look there."

"They did. We went back there after they had done their investigation. Any place they went to, we stayed at after they had left."

"So why did you split up with Draco?"

He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Lily knew. She knew that he was trying to protect Draco. He was trying to give him a better life than that of a fugitive on the run.

"Okay, well, after that… where did you go?"

"Nowhere."

"What do you mean, 'nowhere'? You couldn't have been _nowhere_."

"I mean I didn't go anywhere. I stayed at Hogwarts."

Lily frowned. "I don't understand."

Snape sighed, impatient with the fact that she was not keeping up. "The Dark Lord has a very unhealthy obsession with the school. It wasn't a matter of _if_ he would try to take it, but _when_."

"So you…' she paused, her eyes widened. '_Oh_. Do you mean to say you've been staying in the Forest all this time watching the school? Oh, _Severus_."

Lily's fingers itched to grab him by the shoulders and hug him. Here she was not five minutes ago accusing him of being selfish, and yet he went ahead and spent a whole year living on the outskirts of one of the most dangerous places in Brittan, just so he could make sure the people who hated him were safe.

CRACK.

Snape shut his mouth, his guard instantly reappearing as Harry apparated loudly into the room, looking tired yet pleased.

"Get everything done?' asked Lily, her eyes still locked on Snape.

"Just about. Feel like I've been apparating all over creation and back.' Harry put his wand in his back pocket and glared at Snape. 'I thought you might have tried to escape, forcing Mum to knock you out."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Potter.' sneered Snape.

Harry gave Snape one last venomous look. "Mum can I talk to you?"

"Sure honey."

"_Privately_?"

Lily rose from her chair for the first time in hours. She pulled her wand out, waved it at Snape and his binds fell to the floor and vanished.

Harry gaped at her. "Mum! What the bloody hell…?"

"Watch your language, please, Harry.' said Lily, giving him a stern look as Snape got to his feet. 'Severus is not here to hurt us. He is here to help, and such a great, powerful wizard is no asset at all tied to a chair.'

"_A great_…" spluttered Harry, but Lily cut him off.

"Now you could restrain him again and the both of you could waste valuable time being prats, or you could build a bridge, get over yourselves and give Severus something useful to do. A mind like his a terrible thing to waste."

On the inside, Snape felt his chest would explode with affection, but on the outside, all he did was shift his weight from one foot to another. He matched Harry glare, aware of Harry's fingers curling around the wooden handle protruding from his hip pocket.

Lily put a hand on Harry's chest and turned to Snape. "Go find Remus. See if you can help him."

"_Lupin_?"

"Yes, Lupin."

"Why him? _Anyone_ but him."

"Well I hear Dedalus Diggle needs help too…"

Snape sighed. "Lupin it is."

Harry blinked as Snape gave Lily one last look and left, a hunch to his shoulders. He'd never seen Snape act so… _normal_ before.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?' asked Lily.

"Huh? Oh, nothing. I just wanted to… you know… Snape's a git…"

Lily smiled, understanding. "You just wanted to spend some time with me alone?"

Harry said nothing.

"You look tired. Here, sit down…"

He sat down heavily in the chair Snape had occupied moments before and let out a sigh. Lily sat down opposite him, drawing the chair closer to him than the stand-off position it had been in. He took his glasses off, leant forward with his elbows on his knees and rubbed his eyes. Lily felt her heart ache just looking at him. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was only a few weeks short of eighteen.

She reached out a put a hand on his knee. "Just relax. You're home now."

"Relax?' he laughed. 'How can I possibly _relax_?"

"Well you're not going to be any good to anyone if you're completely exhausted, now are you? So you're going to need a find a way _to_ relax. You don't want to burn out before it's even started, do you?"

"Well, no, but…"

"Breathe in!"

Harry rolled his eyes and inhaled deeply.

"And breathe out."

After a moments pause, Harry parted his lips and exhaled slowly. To his surprise, the tension left his shoulders, his muscles relaxed and the rush of oxygen made him feel dizzy; the good kind. He repeated the process twice more before his eyes opened dopily.

Lily smiled at him. "Better?"

Harry didn't answer her right away. He put his glasses back on looked at her. She seemed so at ease while everyone else was tense. She was always the one calming everyone, always the one everybody went to as a soundboard for their woes and troubles. Even now. _Especially_ now. Harry had seen everyone crack, but not her. Not the day he'd stunned her and kept her tied to a bed for almost a week, not when she hadn't been allowed out of the house for months, and not now.

"Are you scared?" he asked.

"Yes.' she said without hesitation. 'Are you?"

"Shitless."

For once, Lily didn't reprimand him for his language.

Harry ran his hands through his hair and looked up at the cracked ceiling. "I hate this waiting. I hate being anxious and on edge. It's like I'm in the Triwizard Tournament again, waiting to battle a dragon. I'm so nervous my guts are churning. I can taste bile under my tongue. I'd rather be fighting than have to put up with this stupid anticipation. I'm out of things to do. I have nothing left but to wait."

Lily nodded. "I know that feeling."

"Do you?"

"Oh yes. For three months I felt that feeling. Three, very long months, James and I would sit at the kitchen table and wonder, 'Is this the day we die?'. We'd never say it out loud, of course, but we knew that we were both thinking it. It was in the air; tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. We had barely any contact without the outside, and every day we waited for news of the war to be over, that Dumbledore had finally killed Voldemort.' She smiled sadly. 'I never thought _we_ would be the ones to finally finish him."

Harry sighed. "I wish Dad was here."

Lily reached out and took his hand. "I know you do. I do too."

"He'd know what to do.' said Harry, nodding, affirming his own statement. 'He'd know exactly what to say. How to act. Where to start. He would have been a good leader, but me…"

"Harry, _please_, don't doubt yourself.' implored Lily.

"How can I not?' he laughed. 'I'm nobody! I've only lived this long because of pure dumb luck. How can I kill Voldemort? I couldn't even kill a Chimaera! I couldn't even finish the first word! I'm just afraid, Mum. I'm scared so much I can barely stand. I don't want anyone to die because my choices. _I_ don't want to die. I know the average hero has a short expiry date on the package, but I want mine to last a very long time. Like cheetoes."

"I don't want you to die either.' said Lily. 'But, if it's any help… death is nothing to be scared of. Trust me, I know. Been there. Done that. Got the t-shirt."

"Ah yes, the 'My Mum went to Heaven and All I got was this lousy T-shirt' t-shirt. I know the one."

Lily took his face in her hands. "You're not alone in this."

Harry frowned. "I should be. The more people that fight…"

"That's their choice, and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it. Harry, I understand you feel the need to carry the world on your shoulders and that's noble, but there are other people out there who want to help you fight the good fight and you need to let them in – because sometimes even heroes need to be saved."

"I don't know what to do." he muttered softly.

Lily got to her feet. "Then let me decide for you."

Harry frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

"I've been thinking a lot about this the past few months. About everything. About you, and Voldemort, and me and me being alive and I just wondered…"

"What?' demanded Harry, getting to his feet. Something about her tone was making him feel nervous. 'You just wondered what?"

Lily suddenly went stiff with determination. "I can face him for you."

It took a few long moments for these six simple words to sink in, then Harry set his jaw and shook his head.

"No, you can't. Don't even think about it."

"I have thought about it. It's all I've been able _to_ think about. Look, we can do it like we did it last time."

"_No_, Mum.' said Harry, pacing in front of her.

"Maybe that's why I came back. Maybe that's my purpose for being here – to help you. To give you the protection you need like a good parent should."

"A good parent wouldn't do that to her son!' shouted Harry, his eyes wide. 'A good parent wouldn't just… just throw herself into the jaws of death! A good parent wouldn't come back for a few months, make her son feel like he finally had a family and then nick off again! You call this good parenting? I call this _BOLLOCKS_!"

"Harry, I love you.'

"You've an odd way of showing it!"

"I would do anything to keep you safe! You're my son! I would die to keep you out of harms way!"

"_YOU ALREADY DID_!"

Lily flinched at Harry's bellowing voice, his hands thrown up in the air and the desperation in his face. He stared at her, gasping for breath. His shoulders slumped.

"You already did.' he repeated softly. 'How many times do you think you have to do it? How many times do you think I can handle you leaving? I'm not strong enough for that, Mum. Don't you understand? I couldn't live with myself. I can't watch you die again. I just… I just _can't_."

In one quick motion her arms were around him, and his face was in the crook of her neck, tears splashing her collarbone. She hugged him tightly, smoothing his hair down, rubbing his back.

"I'm sorry…' she whispered '… I'm so sorry… I love you…"

"Do you really?' he asked, his voice muffled in her hair. 'Because I'm seventeen years old and I go through every day of my life thinking no-one loves me."

Lily smiled, pulled back from him and took his face in his hands. "More than anything. And nothing can change that – not even death."

Harry didn't want to let her go. Time seemed to have suddenly caught up with him. It seemed like only a few hours ago he was opening the door to her, seeing her again for the first time. Their few months seemed so cheap when compared to the seventeen years they should have had. And now they only had a few hours. _Hours_. To think that that was all the time he had left was inconceivable. This was the whole reason he had suggested they wait. Not so he could organize and rally, not so he could prepare… so he could have more time with her. More time with Ron and Hermione. His heart suddenly ached for Ginny, to be able to hold her like he was holding Lily now. Because he was going to die in a few hours, and all he wanted was one more chance.

Lily seemed to sense what he was thinking; her embraced tightened ever so slightly. Neither of them wanted to move. Lily had found it hard to be without him for a few months, just after she'd managed to remember she even _had_ a son… how had he been able to handle that feeling for his entire life?

She laughed and finally pulled away from him. "Look at us, a pair of old fuddie duddies! Anyone would think this is our last night together. I feel like Kate Winslet in Titanic!"

"When did you go see that?"

"A few weeks ago. Why? Did you want to see it? I didn't think it was your sort of movie."

"Well, yeah, but… you know… Kate Winslet…"

"Come on you,' she laughed, pushing him toward the door, 'let's go find your brother and sister."

Harry led her out of the room without protest. It felt like weeks since he'd last seen Hermione and Ron instead of hours. His chest swelled at the thought of them, and he realized he was very sensitive at the thought of anyone right now. Probably because he only had a few hours left with them, that's why.

Completely by habit, the two of them walked down to the dining room. Harry was surprised to see it completely empty, save for two people over by the fireplace. He had expected it to be buzzing with people like it had been that morning. He looked over at the two occupants and froze, quite unable to believe what he was seeing. Something that caused the world to go silent, the lights to dim and his stomach drop to his feet.

Ginny.

She was just standing there with her mother, talking quietly, arms folded over her chest. She was still dressed in her school uniform. Her hair was out, framing her beautiful face. She looked older somehow, more mature, her facial features sharper and more defined. Harry could barely believe it. She was there. Right then and there. Actually in the same room, meters away.

As if sensing his eyes on her, Ginny's eyes drifted away from her mother and locked with his. She didn't smile; her face fell with panic and dread.

"Harry,' she started cautiously, walking slowly over to him, 'look, I know you don't want me here and I know what you're going to say but I just wanted to tell you before you even start that it was Mum's decision to bring me home and I really don't think you have more authority than my own parents and I know that you said you couldn't deal with me here but I promise that I wont get in your way I just want to help and as soon as this is all over I'll even bugger off again if that makes it easier for you and…"

And that was as far as she got, for in two quick strides, Harry had crossed the room, taken her face in his and kissed her.

Ginny melted instantly. She collapsed into his arms and kissed him back, quite sure she had never felt anything so exquisite in her entire life. She didn't care that both their mothers were still in the same room, looking away awkwardly but making no attempt to try and stop them. She didn't care that she had promised to stay away from him, and that he was no doubt as emotionally exhausted as she was. All that mattered was that it was him, and that he was there, and that she was with him. Everything else seemed to fade into black. It was just like their first kiss after the Quidditch finals, only ten million times better.

Harry pulled back with a loud "mwuah!" looked down at her and smiled dopily. "Ginny! You're here!"

Ginny nearly burst into tears. "Where else would I be you silly buffoon?"

Harry laughed and hugged her tightly, lifting her off her feet. Ginny _did_ burst into tears, tears of happiness, and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"After that entire debacle at Hogsmeade, I didn't want Ginny at Hogwarts anymore.' said Mrs. Weasley. 'She needed to be with us, where I could keep an eye on her."

"And Bill?' asked Lily, smiling at Ginny and Harry, still literally wrapped up in each other.

"He'll join us soon,' said Mrs. Weasley with a smile, 'but not because I told him too."

Harry hadn't heard any of this. He was hugging Ginny tightly, kissing her cheeks, her lips, her neck, anywhere he could get. Her fingers were in his hair, her legs around his waist. He thought that if they could stand there forever, together, then that would be enough.

Lily cleared her throat. "Er… I may go see what Alastor is up to. Molly?"

"Yes, quite right, I'll join you."

Neither teen saw them leave. Harry finally set Ginny back on her feet but did not let her go. He linked his fingers with hers and beamed down at her.

Ginny wiped a tear away with the back of her wrist. "You're not mad I'm here?"

"Of course not! Why would I be mad?"

"Well… things didn't end very well last time we saw each other."

The memory sobered Harry. He remembered that day, standing in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts just a few months ago when he told her that they couldn't be together anymore. When his cold, gut-wrenching, yet necessary words had brought her to tears and he had done nothing but walked away.

Harry squared his jaw, trying to pull himself together. "Right. Sorry. I didn't even ask."

"Ask what?"

"Well… if you're… that is, if you've got someone…"

Ginny laughed. "What? _No_! No, there's no-one else." She had to admit, it was ever so sweet of him to ask, even thought it did look like it caused him physical pain just to imagine her with someone new.

The small distance Harry had created between them closed up again, the tension leaving him instantly. "Good, because I would have turned him into a Bullfrog."

She laughed and kissed him again, her hand at the back of his head, and Harry felt as though his chest would burst from happiness. Every nerve ending tingled. His skin felt like it was on fire. He put a hand at the small of her back, craving her, needing her closer.

"I've missed you.' she whispered against his lips. 'Oh God, you have no idea how much I've missed you."

"Come on."

Harry took her hand in his and ran from the room, dragging her along behind.

"What are we doing? Harry, you're about to go to war and you want to run off and have a snog? Don't you have things you need to be doing?"

"They can survive without me for a little while."

Ginny laughed. "_Now_ you're getting it!"

---------------------

The bell rang, and students filed out of the school like someone had opened the floodgates of a dam. From her car at the curb she watched for his familiar head of curly hair with almost a frenzied eye. Eight months later and she still hadn't relaxed. Not for one second.

She watched the hundreds of teenagers go their separate ways; some to the school buses, some to fetch their bikes, some walking, some meeting their parents at their cars. It all seemed so normal, so routine. Everyone around them walked in ignorant bliss. She wished she could do the same.

After a few moments she spotted him coming out the front entrance to the school. She stood on tiptoe and waved. "Justin! Justin, darling, over here!"

Justin Finch-Fletchly groaned as he saw his mother's excited waving across the sea of people. "I wish she wouldn't do that."

Beside him, Terry Boot smiled. "Eight hours apart is obviously too much for her to handle."

Two older boys suddenly barged between Justin and Terry, sniggering over their shoulders. "_Juuuuustin! Dahling_!"

"Oh sod off Webber!' snarled Justin, flipping them the bird.

"Just ignore them.' said Terry quietly, glaring as the two boys walked off, their heads thrown back in laughter.

"If only it were legal…' muttered Justin.

Terry turned to ask him what he were talking about, but stopped when he saw Justin's hand hovering over his right pocket.

"I wouldn't.' he advised.

"Why? Cause I'll get carted off to Azkaban?"

"No, cause here comes your Mum."

Justin's whole body stiffened as she broke free of the sea of people, her perfectly styled hair now slightly ruffled. She adjusted the jacket of her business suit and smiled up at Justin. He had never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more.

"Honestly, Justin, did you not see me waving? Did you not hear me calling you? Oh, hello Terrance."

Terry nodded. "Mrs. Finch-Fletchley."

"Are you coming home with us again today?"

"No, er… I'm actually just going to walk Hannah home then head off myself. Got some things to do tonight. Important things. But thank you anyway."

"Oh, well, all right then. Tell Hannah I said hello, would you?

Terry smiled. "Sure thing. Juzzie, I'll er… see you later?"

With a final traditional clap on the back, Terry gave Justin a meaningful look, gave Mrs. Finch-Fletchly another respectful nod and headed off to meet Hannah and the others at the back of the school.

"Are you going to his house tonight?" she asked quickly.

"No, we're…'

"Oh, sorry Justin, hold that thought.' His mother said as she pulled out her small ringing phone and flicked it open.

"Finch and Fletchly, your dream home in a flash, this is Jackie, how may I help… oh, Carl, just you."

"Mum, can you call him back? There's something I need to talk to you about…"

"No, Carl, I can't get there right now, I'm all the way on the other side of town… sorry, Justin, I'll only be a second…"

"But, Mum…"

Mrs. Finch-Fletchly held up a finger, frowning into space. "Well you should call Henry and have him have a look at it. I really can't do it right now."

"Mum…"

"Because I'm picking my son up from school, that's why! … No he can _not_ just walk home!"

"_Mum_!"

"Justin, just wait in the car, we can talk about it on the way home…"

"I'm not going home."

His tone made Mrs. Finch-Fletchly look up. Justin stood up to his full height and looked her right in the eye, his hand instinctively going to his pocket again. She blinked.

"Carl? I'll have to call you back.' She shut her phone and put it back in her purse. 'Okay, you have my attention. What's going on? "

Justin bit his lip. He knew this was going to be hard, he just hadn't expected it to be this hard. He had psyched himself up all day. When the bell had gone, he thought he'd been as ready as he could be. But he'd seen her across the lawn, and he'd realized just then how unprepared he really was.

"Harry came to visit me today."

"Harry who?"

"Harry Potter. I used to go to school with him."

Her expression darkened. "One of your old school friends came _here_?"

He nodded.

She looked around to make sure they weren't being overheard, grabbed Justin's arm and led him away from the crowd a little. "How did he find you?' she hissed, panicked. 'Have they been watching you? Justin, if this boy could find you then anyone else can!"

"Ernie told him."

"How would Ernie know where you've been…' she trailed off and comprehension dawned on her face. She grimaced and put a hand over her eyes with a sigh. 'Oh, _Justin_…"

Justin frowned. "Please don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Act like I've done something wrong."

Mrs. Finch-Fletchly stepped in closer to him, looking around to make sure they weren't overheard. "Justin, we talked about this! We agreed you'd have nothing to do with any of those people anymore. None of them! That included Ernie! How has he been keeping in contact with you anyway?"

"Mum, I promise, I'll explain all of this when I get back, but right now…"

"Get back?' she couldn't keep the panic out of her voice. 'Where are you going?"

Justin ground his teeth together. "We're going home, Mum. I'm going back where I belong."

"We? Who's 'we', exactly?"

"Terry.' Said Justin softly. 'And Hannah, and Parvati, and Padma, and Megan… all of us."

Mrs. Finch Fletchly chest began to heave, as if she were having trouble breathing. Justin understood. This is had been just one of the many secrets he'd kept from her.

"Do you mean to tell me, that _those children_…"

"I don't know Terry from my old football days, Mum."

"Justin!' snapped his mother, stamping her foot.

"We had to stick together.' He said.

"I told you you were to have _nothing_ to do with any of those people ever again!"

"They're not dangerous, Mum! They're my friends!"

"That is beside the point! You deliberately disobeyed me! And if you think for one second that you'll be going _anywhere_ with them…"

"I am going.' He said firmly. 'I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. The war, the one you've tried to hide me from for the whole year? Yeah, that's where Terry's going, and Hannah, and the twins, and Megan… and me."

His mother's mouth dropped open. "What? No, Justin!"

"They're going to be fighting tomorrow.' said Justin softly, cutting her off. 'Everyone's going to be fighting. Don't worry; it won't be anywhere near here I'm sure; you and Dad will be safe."

"Justin, don't be absurd!" hissed Mrs. Finch-Fletchly. She couldn't manage to keep the panic out of her voice. 'You can't just… you can't just _leave_!"

"I have to."

"No, you don't have to."

"Yes I do!" snapped Justin. 'They're fighting for my right to be a part of that world. For me and for everyone like me. And I want to help. I want to fight. I want to stand up to these people. I'm sick of hiding out here like some scared child. I'm not scared of them, and I won't let them dictate to me how I should live my own life any longer."

"But you could die!"

"_I DON'T CARE_!"

Everyone looked around as Justin's furious voice echoed. Mrs. Finch-Fletchly looked around in panic. "Justin, keep your voice down!"

"No!' he snapped. 'I'm sick of being quiet! I'm sick of hiding! I'm sick of pretending to be something I'm not. Something I never was!"

Mrs. Finch Fletchly's eyes widened as Justin pulled his wand out of his pocket and examined it, as if he weren't quite sure how it had gotten there.

She rushed forward and took his face in her hands, pleading. "Please Justin, don't do this. You've been doing so well. You just… you can try harder. _I_ can try harder."

"I can't, Mum.' he said, his eyes welling up. 'I know that you've tried to stamp it out of me. I know you thought that cutting me off from my friends I would be all right. I know you thought that you were doing the right thing by getting rid of Frank. But this isn't some phase I'm going through! This is my life! This is who I am! You can't just ignore it and hope it'll go away because it _never_ will! As hard as you've tried I've tried so much harder, to be quiet, and to try and forget, but I can't try anymore because it hurts! It hurts so much! I'm not a Muggle, Mum! I'm a Wizard! I'm so sorry. I'm so _sorry_…"

Mrs. Finch-Fletchly let out a dry sob and hugged him tight. He wrapped his arms around her.

"Justin… I just wanted you to be safe.' She whispered. 'I'm sorry too. But please, don't go. _Please_ Justin don't do this to me…"

"To you?' he said incredulously. 'Mum, I'm doing this for you! Do you have any idea what would happen if You-Know-Who wins tomorrow? Do you know what he would do to you? As much as I want to fight for my right to be a wizard, I want to fight for your right to be a Muggle. Your right to exist."

"There are others who can do that! Justin, don't go. Stay with us. We can run. We can be safe together."

"I can't.' He said, pulling away. He raised his wand. 'Tell Dad I love him. I'll see you tomorrow after it's all over."

"No, Justin! _Please_!"

CRACK.

The people who were very close by leapt back with surprise. Others looked around, wondering where the noise had come from. Mrs. Finch-Fletchly ignored them all. She burst into tears and put her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with loud sobs.

From the roof of the school, Justin watched through watery eyes as a nearby woman came and comforted his mother, putting a hand on her shoulder, trying to soothe her. She let out a wail and collapsed against the woman in a hug.

Justin felt a hand on his shoulder but didn't look around.

"You all right?' asked Terry.

Justin wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "Fine.'

"You didn't lie to her, you know. You'll be back tomorrow. Then she can ground you for the rest of your life."

Justin jiggled his wand in his hand. "Come on, let's get out of here."

---------------------------

Harry had just come around the corner on the second floor when he literally bumped into Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, Harry dear! Goodness, you scared the life out of me!"

With his quick reflexes, Harry caught the packet of crisps that had fallen out of his arms with an awkward swipe. "Sorry Mrs. Weasley. I can't really see where I'm going."

"That and you're running.' smiled Mrs. Weasley. She examined the arrangement of food Harry was cradling in his arms. 'Are you planning on going into hibernation with my daughter?"

Harry blushed. "What?"

Mrs. Weasley picked out a box of chocolate biscuits and held them up. "Ginny loves these."

"Really? _Wow_! I didn't know…"

Mrs. Weasley arched an eyebrow.

Harry sighed. "The cupboard downstairs gives you anything you want."

"You don't need to explain to me, dear, honestly. I'm glad you're having some time together after so long apart. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find any of my sons."

She patted him on the shoulder and moved on. Harry watched her go, suddenly seeing her as if it were for the first time. _Really_ seeing her.

"Mrs. Weasley!"

"Yes dear?"

Harry shifted the food in his arms awkwardly. "Well, I just… that is… er…"

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Perhaps you could tell me sometime _today_. I'm a little busy tomorrow."

"I just wanted to say… you know, tomorrow being what it is and all… its really got me thinking lately, you know… about the people in my life, and… well…' He sighed and cured inwardly at his bumbling mouth. 'What I'm trying to say, quite inarticulately, is that… well, I really do appreciate everything you've done for me the past seven years."

"Oh, Harry, you don't need to…"

"Yes,' he nodded, 'yes I do. You were always so good to me. You still are. You offered me refuge when I thought I'd go mad. You forced me to eat even though I never felt like it. You hugged me… you _hugged_ me…"

He stopped and clenched his jaw. Mrs. Weasley was flushed with embarrassment and modesty.

"No matter what,' he said firmly, '_you_ were my mother first."

Mrs. Weasley said nothing, just let out a sob, rushed forward and gave him a hug. The food in Harry's arms crumpled but he ignored it. He knew that his inability to use fancy, meaningful words did not matter. He knew she understood 'Boy'. He knew she understood exactly what he was saying.

After a long moment she pulled back and smoothed down his hair with a smile. "Off you go."

Harry smiled at her and headed off. He could feel her eyes on him all the way up to his bedroom door.

Lying on the bed on her back, Ginny looked up when he entered. "What took you so long? You didn't actually go down to the store to buy all that did you?"

Harry kicked the door shut behind him, dumped all the food in the middle of the bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard. "Don't be daft. I haven't even got enough money in my pocket to buy a postage stamp."

"Ohhhh, chocolate biscuits! I love these!"

"Yeah.' chuckled Harry, unwrapping the cookie dough, 'I remember."

Ginny rolled over onto her side, propped her head up in her hand and watched him pick at his food. He preferred savory over sweet. She knew this not because he had told her, but because she had watched him. She'd seen him pass over Bertie Botts for her mother's cake. She'd seen him have rolls and bread until he couldn't eat anymore. He probably didn't even know he did it.

She snapped her biscuit in half. "So…"

Harry smiled and nodded. "_So_…"

"It feels so weird being back here.' she said, looking around. 'Being Hogwarts is like another world. It always has been, but especially this year… and finally being here now feels like the past ten months were nothing but a dream.' She looked down at her hands. 'All that loneliness, gone in the blink of an eye. Time is a funny thing, isn't it? Always seems to be too much of it, yet at the same time never enough."

"I know how that feels."

"You're probably the only one who really does."

"You're wrong though.' He said, feeding her some butterscotch. 'You weren't alone. You and Colin seemed to be pretty good friends."

Ginny smiled. "He was wonderful. He _is_ wonderful. I never really realized how much I appreciated him until this year. We had this whole new group, with me and him and Dennis and Demelza and of course Luna…"

"Do they know you're here?"

"I suppose McGonagall would have told them by now."

"You didn't tell them you were leaving?"

"It all happened pretty quickly. I didn't really get a chance to say goodbye."

"You should have tried.' said Harry solemnly.

"I didn't think. I was just so eager to get here. I didn't even consider…' she stopped, suddenly feeling quite guilty. 'I was called in McGonagall's office. I walked in and there was Mum, standing at McGonagall's desk. She didn't say anything, just held her hand out for me to take, like she used to when I was little.' She looked up at Harry and saw he was staring off into space, munching on some chocolate. 'Do you miss not having memories like that?"

Harry shrugged and lay down. "You can't really miss what you never had. Sometimes I'll see kids holding their Dad's hand, or lying fast asleep in their Mum's laps, and I'll think it would have been nice, just once, to have something like that. I used to crave it, but now… I don't know. I'm just grateful to have a mother at all, really."

Ginny's heart went out to him. She couldn't imagine what life would have been like without her mother's hugs, her father's special back scratch before bed. Such simple gestures she took for granted he had never experienced in his whole life. He'd never been told he was loved. He'd never been told he was wanted. And yet he was still the extraordinary person he was today.

She shifted over, took the roll of cookie dough out of his hand, put it aside and lay down on top of him. Harry looked a little startled at first, but quickly recovered. He smiled and tucked her red hair behind her ear. She brushed his bangs out of his eyes, softly running the pad of her thumb over his lightning bolt scar. He slid his fingers through her hair, across her scalp, around to the back of her head and pulled her down for a kiss, and felt that if he could lie here forever with her then that would be enough. Kissing her was better than his dismal memories had ever presented him with late at night. She was soft, calm, and her weight on top of him was glorious. He felt warm, right in the core of his chest.

She laughed, kissed him all over his face and then sat up. Harry sighed. It was always over too quickly for his liking.

"Er… you want to tell my why there's a bottle of Firewhiskey in here?' asked Ginny with a smile.

"Can't you just be quiet and drink it like a good girl?"

"You're trying to get drunk? On the Eve of your revolution? I thought you were steering clear of this stuff, especially after last time."

Harry laid down, his head in Ginny's lap. "Being well and truly sloshed is great, it's the morning after that's not so fun. And Mum can just fix me right up tomorrow, right as rain. If this is going to be my last night alive, then I'm going to have fun."

Ginny grimaced as Harry took a mouthful right from the bottle. "Don't talk like that."

_I'm not just saying it_, he wanted to say. _Tonight is my last night alive_, he wanted to say. _I'm going to die tomorrow_, he wanted to say. _This is my last chance with you_, he wanted to say.

He said nothing.

He looked up at her as she ate another biscuit, her tongue darting out to catch the stray crumbs that still stuck to her lips. And odd vision came to him; a picture of what they might have been like in ten years. Would they still be like this? Would they sit together on the floor of their house, the fire crackling, feeding each other sweets and drinking wine? Would their children be upstairs sleeping? Would they be expecting a visit from Ron and Hermione the next day along with their own kids? Something like this was much easier to imagine than he thought it would be. The picture made him sad with longing, yet strangely calm at the same time.

He wrapped an arm awkwardly around her. "I'm sorry."

She looked down at him. "Hmm? What for?"

"For being such an asshole to you."

"Oh, Harry…"

"No, really, I am.' He insisted. 'You haven't deserved the way I've treated you this past year. After Dumbledore died I was scared – more scared than I think I've ever been. I'd already lost too many people, but loosing him was the icing on the cake. I decided then that I wasn't going to loose anymore people. It was obvious I couldn't take care of anyone, I couldn't protect anyone… not yet anyway… and breaking up with you was the only way I could think of to keep you safe. You deserve to be with someone who can make you happy. Someone who will treat you the way you should be treated: like a queen. Someone like Colin."

"But I don't love Colin. Not like this. Not like with you."

Harry took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "None of this turned out the way I wanted it to. I wanted to love you. I did love you. And I just felt like we were beginning to... I know we were. I know it in my heart. I feel like I had this once-in-a-lifetime chance and I buggered it up."

Ginny leaned down and kissed him. "I'm not a chance, Harry. I'm a person. I understood then why you did it just like I understand now. I don't hate you and I don't blame you. I could never.' She grit her teeth together, quite unable to believe what she was about to say. 'And if you… if you want me to go back to Hogwarts… if you don't want me here tomorrow…"

"No.' said Harry instantly, looking alarmed. 'No way. We need you here, Ginny. Hell, _I_ need you. I'm a mess without you. I miss you so damn much. I miss being with you, I miss being near you. I miss your laugh. I miss your scent."

"You had me at 'no'.' she giggled. 'And thank Merlin for that, because I _really_ didn't want to leave."

Harry tugged on her hair, pulling her down for another kiss. Her lips curled against him in a satisfied grin; the gesture made him think of their stolen moments in abandoned corridors. It seemed like an eternity ago.

Ginny leant back and handed Harry a muffin. As they ate in comfortable silence, Harry wondered if she would be mad with him tomorrow. He wondered if she'd be angry that he hadn't told her of his plans. That he hadn't told her he was a Horcrux. No, he didn't need to wonder – he _knew_ she'd be furious. Ron would shake his head. Hermione would call him an idiot and say he died for nothing. But Harry knew what he was, and he knew what it meant. Had Dumbledore known? Harry couldn't imagine him not knowing anything. If so, why hadn't he told him sooner?

Harry pushed the thought out of his head. He'd made his peace with Dumbledore months ago; he didn't want to spend the last few hours of his life being mad at him.

He looked up. "I can see up your nose."

"Harry, this is supposed to be romantic.'

"Okay… I can see up your nose, _darling_."

Ginny laughed, her head thrown back, and Harry suddenly felt more relaxed than he had in years. His muscles seemed less stiff, he was breathing deeper, and he couldn't keep the smile off his face. He was glad he got to feel like this, just one last time.

"We should go find Ron and Hermione.' he said.

"They're probably doing the same thing we're doing."

"All the same…"

Ginny waited for him to finish, but he didn't. "All the same what? Harry?"

She looked down at him, but Harry didn't notice. His scar was prickling, and he felt like he was being pulled through a porthole, like he were stuck mid-apparation between two places. He could see the roof of his bedroom, the blurry outline of Ginny's face, but then he could see a high ceiling, a tiled floor… brightly lit room… a glass cabinet…people looking at him in concern…

"Harry? Talk to me."

She snapped her fingers in front of his face, but he saw it as if it were miles away. Then he turned around to see more people gathered, some in uniform shouting at him. He raised his wand and muttered two words, and in a flash of green they fell to the floor. The people surrounding began screaming, and Harry began smashing cabinets, glass flying everywhere, cutting people…

"Harry! Can you hear me?"

Harry felt Ginny's hand slap him softly on the cheek, and then he was back. He sat bolt upright and leapt up from the bed.

"I have to go."

"_Go_? What are you talking about?"

Harry didn't answer. He grabbed his wand from the bedside table and twisted to the right.

"Harry! Wait! What are you…?"

CRACK.

Ginny was left on all fours on the bed, staring in amazement at the empty spot Harry had occupied moments before. She gaped, dumbfounded for a long moment before sense reclaimed her.

She leapt from the bed and ran from the room, screaming, "_MRS. POTTER_!"

---------------

Harry could hear the screams from the floor below.

He ran as fast as he could, dodging people who were running in the opposite direction with fear plastered on their faces. He didn't stop any of them to ask what happened; he already knew. From outside he could hear the screeching of tires and general panic, but he ignored it. He had a sick feeling in his chest and his scar was burning, and he could think of nothing else but to keep moving. To get there in time.

When went up the stairs and he rounded the last corner however, a large arm caught him around the middle, knocking the wind out of him.

"Whoa there sonny!' grunted the Guard, trying to hold Harry. 'Where do you think you're going?"

"Let go of me! I need to get up there!"

"Are you nuts? There's a crazed psychopath up there! I'm calling for back-up and I've been told not to…"

"_STUPEFY_!"

The burly security guard dropped to the floor, a dead weight. Still tight in his grip, Harry went down awkwardly with him. In far too much of a hurry to feel guilty, he threw the beefy arm off him, leapt to his feet and continued on his way. It was the right hallway, and the room at the end seemed to zoom toward him as he ran.

And then he skidded to a halt.

The first thing he noticed was that Voldemort was gone. The second thing he noticed a split second after his disappointment had abated was that the abandoned Anglo-Saxon exhibit was in complete and utter shambles. It looked like a bomb had gone off. Glass cabinets were blasted wide open, their contents flung every which way. Windows were smashed in, letting in a breeze from outside. Shards of glass were strewn all over the floor. There was a smoky haze that seemed to grab hold of Harry's throat and squeeze. He could hear sirens in the distance slowly becoming louder. But he ignored that. For a long moment he ignored everything and just stood in the archway, completely still and looked down in horror at the bodies on the floor.

Six bodies, one of them facing upward, a look of horror plastered on his features.

Harry entered the room tentatively, glass crunching under his sneakers. He crossed straight to a young teenage boy and sighed. He looked no older than Harry himself. With a shaking hand, Harry reached out and closed the boys' eyes.

"I'm so sorry.' he whispered.

No matter how much he wanted it, the boy did not smile and tell him that it was okay.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and swallowed back bile. He frowned up at the main case in the middle of the room. It was the only cabinet still in tact, yet its door was swung wide open and its contents were gone. The Pensieve Hermione had spent so many hours constructing was gone.

He got to his feet and looked around. He could hear raised voices from outside coming through the window and the sound of sirens in the distance steadily becoming louder and louder. The sun was setting, making the room glow orange and the glass reflect little rainbows on the walls and ceiling. Help was coming for these people, but it was too late. Harry's only comfort was that they soon would not be lying on a cold floor showered in glass.

Then pain, intense and hot, suddenly flashed from his scar, and with a cry Harry felt his entire body thrum with a strange sort of energy. A feeling that told him one thing:

Voldemort was still in the building.

He didn't know how he knew, but he knew. And with one last look at the room he was running as fast as he could, hoping his feet knew where they were going. Down the hall, the way he had come, he leapt over the still unconscious guard, his radio crackling at his hip with static and muffled voices; he skidded around the corner, his sneakers screeching in protest against the tiles. The scream of tires coming to a quick stop was loud through the glass windows, the sirens now stopping, blue and red lights flashing in the corner of Harry's eye as he ran; down another flight of stairs, around a corner, painting, murals and ancient vases passing by in a blur. He ran down the hall, his scar prickling more intensely than ever.

And then, dressed in a long purple robe, out of the men's bathroom strolled Voldemort, the stone Pensieve tucked under his arm as he wiped his hands together.

Harry skidded to a halt. The high-pitched sound caught Voldemort by surprise, and he looked around. His eyes widened with shock to find Harry standing there. Harry was gaping at him, his scar burning.

It only took about two seconds for the shock to wear off. Harry's eyes widened in alarm and he drew in a long breath, just as Voldemort drew out his wand and angrily shouted, "_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

In such an empty hallway and such a split second in which to make a decision, Harry leapt behind the thing nearest to him; a small pillar with a ceramic vase on top. The jet of green light hit the floor a split second after Harry had moved, making a small crater in the tiles. Harry pulled his wand out as the vase exploded over his head, leapt up, ran back out into the hallway and aimed up.

"_CONFRINGO_!"

The ceiling cracked and caved in, plaster, stone and cement falling right down on top of Voldemort. But before it crushed him into the ground Voldemort crouched down, waved his wand and the massive chunks of stone hovered just above his head, dust and smaller pieces raining down around him. He smirked at Harry and pointed his wand, and the massive boulders from the ceiling zoomed toward him.

Harry cast '_Reducto'_ at the biggest boulder, causing it to smash into smaller pieces and fall to the floor. The second he sidestepped only just, but the third clipped him on the shoulder, spun him around in an awkward twirl and made him trip over his own feet. He had only a split second to recover before he rolled quickly to the right, avoiding another curse fired at him.

The next thing he knew he was being lifted off the ground, like a fish on a hook, and he hung in the hair on his side, suddenly unable to move. He spun slowly around and found himself face to face with the man from his nightmares. The same pale, gaunt face he remembered every detail of. His red eyes, his nose, like a snake, the corner of his mouth turned upward in his malicious, victorious smirk…

"And here I was, thinking it would end much more dramatic than this."

Harry said nothing. He couldn't have even if he tried. The Body Bind was holding him tightly. Despite the fact that he had come here to face him deliberately, and despite the fact that he'd done this so many times in the past he was practically a professional, Harry couldn't help but feel a sheet of panic dull his senses. This was not going at all the way he had hoped, and it was taking every ounce of willpower to try to calm down and just _think_. He kept repeating the same mantra over and over in his head, spoken in Ron's voice:

What would Dumbledore do?

_Probably wouldn't have come over here without some sort of a plan for starters, _he thought bitterly to himself.

His eyes darted around looking for some sort of escape. Outside he could hear raised voices and a lot of commotion, but he wouldn't have called out for help even if he could. They would be no match for Voldemort, and enough people had died already. Harry looked at his surroundings, looking for something he could use. Something. _Anything_. He wasn't going to die here. Not now. Not like this.

Voldemort sighed wistfully as he closed the distance between them, his face inches from Harry's. "It's almost… _disappointing_ that it should end this way. I had expected more of a fight out of you. But then, I suppose you have been quite the little thorn of resistance in my side for long enough."

As Harry continued to spin in a slow circle, his eyes landed on one of the particularly large pieces of plaster from the ceiling and an idea came to him. His wand, thankfully, was still pointed outward, and if he could time it just right, if he concentrated very hard…

"A strange turn of events, wouldn't you say?' continued Voldemort, walking with Harry as he slowly revolved, mid-air. 'Who would have thought that I would kill you here of all places?"

_Just a little more…_ thought Harry furiously, willing himself to turn even just a fraction faster, _come on, a little more…_

Voldemort pressed his forefinger sharply into Harry's scar, and Harry was momentarily distracted by the white hot pain. He cried out, deep from his throat, but the sound did not escape his lips. A cruel smirk spread across Voldemort's features.

"I just can't decide which is more fun,' he laughed, 'this or the Cruciatus Curse."

Harry blinked away tears and tried to focus. He clenched his jaw together tightly and thought of Ginny. Ginny, with her fingers in his hair, the feel of her lips against his, the warm feeling that spread throughout him from just the sound of her voice. He let the sensation fill him up. His skin tingled with the lingering feel of her skin against his, the words she spoke to him, the way his heart swelled every time he thought of her…

Voldemort suddenly screamed with pain and stumbled backward, hands over his face. The pain instantly stopped, and in the moment of weakness Harry waited the split second until his wand was pointed in exactly the right direction and with all his willpower thought '_ACCIO_!'

Just to the left of a direct hit, the large piece of concrete hit Voldemort in the back of the head, knocking him to the ground. There was a moment on victory as Harry watched him, before gravity suddenly returned and Harry dropped to the floor, landing awkwardly on his side with a loud smack.

"_OW_! Ow fuckity ow…' groaned Harry, rolling over. He looked over at Voldemort and leapt to his feet, gripping his wand tightly.

Voldemort was stirring slowly, pulling himself up from the floor. The blow to the head and knocked him hard enough for his concentration to slip, thus causing the spell holding Harry to break. Harry's fingers twitched as he looked down at the wizard trying to get up.

_Do it_. He was trying to convince himself. _Do it and you can end this whole thing right now. Look at him! He's got his back to you! Kill him! You can do it. You have to. _

But the voice sounded like Draco, and although it was right, Harry's instinct was to ignore it

Voldemort wheezed, as if hearing Harry's thoughts. He stood up straight and glared. "You little fool."

"I don't want to be like you.' said Harry. 'I don't want to kill someone while their down. I don't want to be a _coward_."

His wand had moved almost too fast for Harry to register. The burning ache in his arm slowed him, and before he could even try to cast a shield or apparate out, Harry was flung off his feet once more roughly to the side and hurled right through the glass window. The window pain shattered hard against him, shards of glass cutting his face and arms. He could see dozens of police cars and a massive crowd built up behind a barrier, and they screamed as he began to fall two stories. Thinking quickly, Harry pointed his wand at the concrete sidewalk that zoomed up to meet him and shouted, "_SPONGIFY_!

It was like landing on a cross between a trampoline and a water bed. The hard ground suddenly went soft and spongy, and Harry bounced off it awkwardly and landed roughly to the side on the normal concrete, cut and sore but otherwise alive.

He groaned and got back on his feet. Looking around dozens, possibly hundreds of people who had been distracted from their everyday lives by a commotion and news of mass murder in the middle of London, were staring at him, silent and completely astonished. He blushed, feeling a moment of self-consciousness before he saw them all gasping and pointing back up at the window.

Harry gripped his wand tightly, shocked to see Voldemort float down in front of him, like he was flying. He landed gracefully, his black boots crunching against the glass scattered everywhere. He gripped his wand tightly, his red eyes narrowed…

"_HALT_!"

Voldemort and Harry both looked around. Getting over the initial shock of a teenage boy falling through a window, the Police officers (all in bullet-proof vests) were now standing ready, their guns cocked and ready to fire. Harry took only a little comfort in seeing that they were all directed at Voldemort – you didn't need to be a wizard to see this man was dangerous.

"Don't move!' shouted a nearby Sergeant. 'Both of you just…er… just stay where you are!"

There was only a split second of silence; quiet enough to hear a pin drop, then Voldemort raised his wand.

"_NO_!' cried Harry.

The curse missed Harry by millimeters and struck the police car behind him. With a loud 'BOOM' the car was lifted a meter off the ground as it exploded, a large ball of fire engulfing it. Harry shielded his eyes against the heat. People everywhere began screaming and running, and Harry dropped to the ground at the sound of guns firing.

He looked up and saw Voldemort waving his wand against the bullets, flinging people in every direction as if they were articles of clothing left on the floor in his path.

"_STUPEFY_!" shouted Harry.

The spell was off, and it hit Voldemort in the knee. He stumbled, whirled around and fired another spell at Harry. Harry moved out of the way, only just, and tried to run through the crowd of people. In their panic they were all running in different directions, and Harry needed to get past them to draw Voldemort's deadly spells away.

"Freeze! Don't move! You're under arr-…"

BOOM!

Another police car went up in flames, and Harry could smell the rank stench of burning tires and fuel. He ran toward Voldemort, pushing his way past people, and without thinking he bowed forward and rugby tackled him to the ground. They landed in an awkward heap, and Harry shoved him hard into the concrete.

Harry got up on all fours, gripped him by the front of his robes and punched him in the face. "Stop it! Just stop it!"

Voldemort cried out in anger, put his wand in the middle of Harry's chest and growled "_Avada Ke_-…"

CRACK.

Harry vanished. Voldemort sat up and looked around. He ignored the people screaming, the police officers looking around unable to think of any way to keep control, the fire burning up the two metal vehicles with an intense heat. But then he saw him, standing on the steps of the museum, tense with his wand gripped tightly in his hand.

He grinned and stood up.

Harry shivered. The sight of him walking toward him while fired burned and people ran around in a screaming panic, while he remained perfectly calm was more eerie than anything Harry could remember ever seeing.

"Just leave them alone." said Harry firmly as he approached.

"Just like that?' smirked Voldemort. 'Come now Harry… rodents don't simply eradicate themselves. And look at them.' He waved a hand at the people. 'Dumb, panicky animals. They don't deserve to be the dominant race in this world. We have powers they couldn't even imagine! We can do things they could never do even if they spent the next millennia trying! So tell me, young master Potter… why is it we hide in the shadows, why do we skulk around and have protections and have spells to hide us when _we_ are the more powerful? Who are they to say that we are worth less than them?"

"Who are _you_ to say _they're_ worth less than us?' retorted Harry.

In one quick movement, Voldemort moved forward, grabbed Harry around the neck and pressed him roughly up against the wall. Harry cried out in pain, from the shove and from his scar, but he muffled the sound behind his lips. Voldemort glared at him, his face inches from Harry's.

"You could have joined me.' He whispered. 'We could have taken this world together.

"I like things the way they are.' growled Harry. 'I like letting people live. Gives me a nice warm feeling."

"Is that so? Ah ah ah, now, settle down…' he soothed as Harry jabbed his wand into Voldemort's ribs. 'I wouldn't want to have to kill you now, would I?"

"That's a change."

"See, I'm much more interested in wondering how you've eluded me all year.' He said softly. 'How you've managed to discover most of my Horcruxes and destroy them without my knowledge. How your mother is alive again."

Harry felt his blood boil at Voldemort's expression. "If you even _think_ about…"

"Oh, I have thought about it.' He smirked. 'And this time… _I'll do it right_."

BANG.

Voldemort stumbled backward, his fingers sliding from Harry's throat. He looked at Harry with surprise, and not waiting for another second Harry disapparated.

The screaming, the heat and Voldemort's face were gone, and Harry ran up the stairs of the first floor of Grimmauld Place.

"Mum? _Mum_! Hermione! Ginny?"

He kicked in the first door, but the room was empty. He opened the second door, but this room was empty too. Third door, empty. Fourth door, empty.

Feeling a panic, Harry stopped at the fifth door and listened. There was silence. Deafening silence. He'd never heard the house this quiet, even at night. Trying not to loose his head completely, he ran back down the stairs.

"_MUM_! Is anyone here? Ron?"

He ran down to the dining room, and found it completely empty save for once person seated at the table, their back to him.

"MALFOY!"

Draco literally leapt up from his head, nearly spilling his butter beer. "Potter! Where the hell have you…"

"Where is everyone?' he rushed forward, seized the front of Draco's shirt and shook him. '_WHERE ARE THEY_?"

"At Hogwarts!"

Harry let go of Draco, his shoulder heaving. "Hogwarts?"

Draco sighed and smoothed out his shirt. "Right after you left, the Weasley girl came running downstairs all in a tether saying you'd just upped and left for no reason at all. A few minutes after everyone fussing about wondering where you could have gone Bill Weasley rushes in saying that Hogwarts was under attack."

"Holy God-damn Christ. So that's where everyone is now?"

"Seems the Dark Lord got in before you did.' said Draco. 'Weasley said there were over fifty of them at least. And not just wizards."

Harry ran his hands through his hair. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. They were meant to start it in the morning. They were going to take down all the known opponents within the Ministry. Harry was going to send Voldemort a message by mental link. They were going to meet somewhere out of the way and settle it away from any nearby villages. This was probably why he had gone to London. He had wanted to draw Harry away. He was always one step ahead, and it was maddening.

Harry looked at Draco and frowned. "What the bloody hell are you still doing here?"

Draco glared, his cheeks going pink. "I can't leave this house without your say so, remember? I tried to go, but I took one step toward the front door and I got heart palpitations!"

"Fine! Whatever! I release you from this stupid vow. Do whatever the hell you want! Go wherever you want! You don't need to stay here anymore. Etcetera and so on and so forth!"

"Well, I'd say thank you, but I feel this is well over-… _hey_! Where are you going?"

Draco ran after Harry as he headed for the front door.

Harry grabbed him by the wrist. "Are you coming?"

"What a ridiculous question, of course!"

"You have your wand back?"

"Yes…"

"Good! Hurry up and get us out of here!"

Draco drew his wand out slowly. "Potter, you can't apparate into Hogwarts."

"Well fine, make us a Portkey."

"I've only made one once and it took me about fifteen minutes to get it right!"

Harry let out a strangled cry and raced back upstairs, dragging Draco with him. They went all the way up to the second floor, and Harry kicked in the door to Ron's room. He raced to the window, grabbed George's broomstick that Ron was borrowing.

Draco gaped at him. "You want to _fly_ there? Do you have any idea how long that will take?"

Harry ignored him and handed it to Draco. "Come on!"

"But… what…' Draco followed Harry out of Ron's room down the hall to Harry's. 'Potter, this is a decrepit Cleansweep Five! You can't expect me to go out in public on this!"

Harry, his Firebolt gripped tightly in his left hand, stuck the tip of his wand into the base of Draco's jaw, his eyes blazing. "Malfoy, get on the fucking broom. _Now_."

Draco said nothing, just swung his leg over the wooden handle.

Harry whirled around and aimed his wand at the window. "_REDUCTO_!"

The window exploded, leaving a gaping hole in the wall. The late afternoon air was cold, but Harry ignored it as he stuffed his wand in the waistband of his jeans.

"You just blew a hole in your wall.' said Draco flatly.

He performed a 'point me' to get his bearings. "It's my house.'

"And that window was looking pretty shifty.'

Harry ran forward and leapt out the window. In the middle of his free-fall, he swung the Firebolt underneath him, pulled up from the dive and zoomed off across the streets of London.

Draco sighed wistfully as he watched Harry become smaller and smaller as he got further away. He kicked off from the ground and wobbled in mid-air, his head just skimming the ceiling.

"Oh no, Draco, no Firebolt for you,' he grumbled in a low imitating drawl of his father as he flew out the hole. 'I certainly will not buy you the most magnificent broom in all the world while Harry Potter's escaped fugitive of a Godfather sends a cat to buy one for him… oh no _sir_…"

* * *

A/N – I think the word sigh is a bit stupid to say here, but it is nevertheless true. I really can't apologize enough for the delay on this chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it after such a long wait. I really am trying to get back in the hang of this.

Please review!


	48. Chapter 47

Chapter 48!

* * *

Colin wasn't entirely sure how he had ended up in this position.

It had all started just after dinner, the slow downward spiral into crazed, arse over tit madness. He had been on his way to McGonagall's office. Ginny had been called there not ten minutes before the end of Herbology, their last class of the day, but she hadn't come back yet. He'd saved her a seat at dinner and everything, and it wasn't like Ginny to skip a meal; the girl had one of the best appetites he knew. So, feeling concerned and curious he had bid his friends farewell, wrestled with his brother in the Entrance Hall for a moment or two and left on his search for his best friend.

When he'd arrived at McGonagall's office however, she'd only need to see him standing there before her lips had pursed in that no nonsense way of hers. Of course she knew why he was there.

"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr. Creevey that Miss Weasley has gone."

"_Gone_? What do you mean, gone?"

"Well, I think that if you go down to the Library, Madam Pince can assist you in finding a Dictionary. Now if you'll excuse me..."

Colin watched her walk off, gobsmacked for a moment before sense took over again. "Professor! Professor, _wait_!' he ran in front of her, blocking her. 'Professor, please, you have to tell me more than that! Did she go home? Is she sick? Is it one of her brothers? What's happened?"

McGonagall looked up at him, her stern expression cracking just that tiny bit. She exhaled softly through her nose. "She is in perfect health, I assure you. Mrs. Weasley came to collect her. She feels that times being what they are that her whole family should be together. Miss Weasley left with her not fifteen minutes ago."

Something hot had seemed to erupt in Colin's chest. He frowned and looked out the window; the sun was setting over the lake. McGonagall stood there looking at him with an almost sympathetic expression.

"Did she…' Colin had started, not really knowing how to ask without sounding like a child. 'She didn't… I mean, before she left…she didn't say…"

"It all happened very fast.' She'd said, not unkindly. 'Miss Weasley was… very eager."

"So she's at Order Headquarters?"

Last year, Colin knew he would have been very strongly reprimanded for saying such a thing, especially out loud and in public. But the Order was as well known as Voldemort himself these days, and she was probably exhausted for reasons other than school and his constant questions, so McGonagall had just nodded. Colin had tried not to look too disappointed in front of her, but he'd gotten the impression she could sense it anyway. He never really was any good with his poker faces. He and Ginny had become very close over the course of the school year; he would have thought she'd have come to say good-bye to him, or at least left a message with McGonagall. But then, she'd been offered the chance to go home to her parents, to her brothers, to Harry; she'd dreamt of nothing else since the day they'd set foot in the castle – Colin could hardly blame her for jumping at the chance.

"Perhaps you could owl her, Mr. Creevey."

Colin was quite sure he'd never heard a better idea in his life. And he was well prepared to run back to Gryffindor Tower, borrow Dennis's owl, Bruno, and send Ginny a happy slash annoyed slash romantic letter telling her of his woes at her departure, but in that moment after McGonagall's words he found that he couldn't.

In that moment, the roof had caved in.

With reflexes he didn't even know he had, Colin's knees had buckled almost of their own accord and he had dropped to the ground, shielding his head with his hands. He flinched, hearing the sound of rock and plaster and dirt and water fall around him, and he had tensed up, waiting for the fall of the largest chunk of stone to fall on top of him and crush him – but it didn't come. He'd peered up and saw McGonagall standing over him, crouched down almost completely in front of him, her wand outstretched as two large boulders of stone hovered over them. As McGonagall stood up, the boulders rose, and with a simple flick of her wand they were flung from above them, landing further down the corridor out of harms way.

Colin was on his feet, wand in his hand and peering out the window as quickly as she was. It was like the sound had suddenly been turned up. Screams could be heard from all around, and Colin had guessed that they were all looking at the exact same thing he was.

"Bugger me! Professor…"

McGonagall's grip was firm on his arm; she was still looking out the window as she spoke. "Come with me, Mr. Creevey. Quickly now."

Colin had never seen McGonagall run; he'd never even known she could. But she had, and at such surprising speed, back past the gargoyle, up the staircase and into the Headmaster's office. The door had flung open with a bang, and the loud voices within the room stopped instantly. She strode in with a stiff posture; Colin had teetered on the threshold and despite the situation had taken a moment to look around in wonder. He'd never been in the Head's office before.

"Albus, it has begun."

"Then we haven't much time at all.' Dumbledore's portrait had said without hesitation. 'Armando, you know what to do."

Colin remembered trying very hard not to goggle openly at Dumbledore's portrait.

"_Phineas_!' McGonagall had barked as Dumbledore continued his orders. 'You need to go to your other portrait this instant and inform the Order of what's happening here."

Phineas Nigellus yawned, looking utterly non-pulsed. "Can't it wait? I just got settled in for the evening."

McGonagall had looked ready to spit nails. "You will do what I ask now or in ten seconds you will find yourself quite promptly blasted off the wall, never to give council to me or any Heads of Hogwarts ever again!"

"You wouldn't dare, madam!' Phineus had looked completely aghast.

"_Ten_…' she had begun counting, wand gripped tightly at her side, 'nine… eight… seven…"

"All right! I'm going!"

In the few seconds it took before McGonagall remembered he was standing there, Colin greatly appreciated this obviously preconceived system they had set up within the room. Apparently they had been prepared for this day for quite some time; Colin was very grateful for their efficiency – he was very scared and lost, personally.

McGonagall's hand was back on his shoulder. "I need your help."

Colin's chest had swelled with pride and determination. "Anything, Professor. Just tell me what to do."

A small, silver, twisted horn flew into his hands as soon as she had flicked her wand. She didn't give him any time to ask, just ushered him out of the office, letting the door slam behind them again.

"But, shouldn't we…?"

"Don't worry, we're well prepared for this, they all have their own assignments. Now, Mr. Creevey, I want you to put an announcement over. I want you to tell everyone to gather in the Great Hall, and that the Prefects need to keep everyone in order, and…"

"But Professor, my brother…"

"Your brother and everyone else will be completely safe as long as you do what I say.' Her tone had been firm, but kind, and Colin had tried very hard to suppress his panic. 'Now put the announcement over, Mr. Creevey, and follow me – quickly now!"

Colin didn't question her any further. He ran along behind her, staying out of the way as she cast complex charms around them. It hadn't taken much effort to work out how to use the magical PA system.

"Uh… attention!' He was pleased when he heard his own voice echoing around the walls, as if the castle itself were talking. 'Everyone, just calm down and listen to me. We all need to get to the Great Hall. So, Prefects, if you could see to that… stick together guys… we're gonna be fine. And Dennis, if you're listening, don't do anything stupid! I mean it, you little twerp!"

"_Mr. Creevey_!"

"All right, Dennis, you're not a twerp, but just…"

The castle shook again with another loud _BOOM_, followed by more loud screams, this time closer. Colin remembered gripping the horn tightly as he continued to run after McGonagall, shielding his face as the windows shattered, sending shards of glass everywhere.

"We're gonna be all right, everyone.' He had said again, not knowing exactly why. 'Just get to the Great Hall."

Thinking about what happened next, Colin only barely remembered running along after McGonagall. He hadn't taken much notice of what she was doing, too caught up in his thoughts about his brother, his friends, Ginny; about what was going to happen. He remembered seeing black figures moving out in the grounds through the windows, flashes of light hitting the walls of the school, glass shattering and people screaming, ghosts flying everywhere. He remembered Trelawney and Sprout running along with them halfway, students who had become lost from their groups gravitating toward them in a frightened panic.

Upon entering the Great Hall, the doors opening with a loud 'bang', the mixture of the Castle shaking again and McGonagall's "do not mess with me" demeanor, everyone's conversations, sobs of fear and shouts of anger silenced instantly. Students were seated at their house tables, ghosts were hovering around like human-shaped clouds, and Hagrid took up almost an entire corner, shielding little first years against his massive frame. Colin had felt a hand wrap around his forearm, and it had taken him a moment to realize it was McGonagall's. She led him up to the staff table; Colin's eyes had looked around frantically for that familiar mess of his brother's brown hair.

"I need everyone to remain calm, now!' McGonagall's voice was loud and booming. 'As you no doubt have guessed, Hogwarts is suddenly in a very dangerous position. Now, I have already alerted the Ministry and the Order of the phoenix…' this caused a great deal of chatter to break out, '… and they will be here momentarily, but for now our first and foremost objective is to get you all to safety."

"How?"

"What about our parents?"

"What about our stuff?"

"There is no time to collect your things. Prefects and Heads of house, I ask you to please lead your houses back to your respective dormitories and use either the Floo network or Portkeys to transport yourselves home."

"But I don't wanna go! I wanna stay! Why can't we fight?"

"Students who are _of age_ may stay behind if they so wish. No, that does _not_ include you, Peakes; I don't care if you are seventeen in a week!"

Colin remembered the doors opening again, and dozens of witches and wizards filing in, wands raised. He'd recognized only two; Mad-Eye Moody and Lupin. They'd stationed themselves around the hall, all tending to their various tasks, but Colin hadn't really noticed. He'd finally spotted Dennis, sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Luna. He went to rush over, when he felt McGonagall grip his arm again.

"You too, Mr. Creevey."

"But _Professor_…"

"I know what you're thinking, and the answer is no."

"But…"

"You heard what I said! I don't have enough time to be worrying about you doing something foolish! You will go home; you and your brother like everyone else who is not of the age of seventeen older and be _safe_!"

Colin had frowned. "I want to stay. I'm not an idiot. I can fight. I was in Dumbledore's army…"

"_Now_, Mr. Creevey!"

Even amongst all the confusion, and the fear, and the panic, Colin knew he would never ever forget the expression that flashed across McGonagall's face as she squeezed his shoulders. When she spoke again, it was softer, more desperate.

"Please, Colin. For _once_… do as I ask of you."

He'd wanted to do several things at once; yell at her, curse her, run off outside and take them all on himself. But he knew he couldn't do that, not to Dennis, and if one thing mattered more than this ridiculous war, it was his brother. So he simply nodded determinedly, ran over to his brother and hauled him up onto his feet by the back of his shirt.

"Come on, we're leaving."

"But…"

"No buts! Luna, don't do anything stupid."

Luna and smiled and pranced off with the rest of her house. Colin dragged Dennis over to join the rest of the quickly Gryffindors filing out of the Great Hall, their voices punctuated by the occasional _BOOM_ from outside. Colin did not let go of Dennis the whole way.

They were up in the Tower in what seemed no time at all, flanked by two Prefects, one Auror and one Order member with very pink hair who was so petite Colin wasn't entirely sure she would be able to do much protecting at all if the occasion called for it. All around him students were disappearing through the fireplace or in a whirl of a Portkey, while only Dean Thomas, Neville Long bottom, Seamus Finnegan and Lavender Brown stayed behind, talking amongst themselves and looking determined, but wary.

Colin looked around now as Demelza came out of nowhere and hugged him. "Do make sure you both get home safely. "

"You too."

She hugged Dennis as well, and with a teary wave stepped into the fireplace, disappearing in green flames seconds later.

"Can't believe only half an hour ago we were eating dinner, whinging about Potions.' grumbled Dennis, looking around solemnly. He and Colin were two of the only ones left. 'Seems a bit stupid now."

Colin watched as Jimmy Peakes and Euan Abercrombie disappeared, their fingers stuck to an old ink bottle, a grim and annoyed expression etched on Jimmy's face. Colin understood exactly what he was feeling.

"Wish _we_ were of age.' muttered Dennis.

"Yeah, well you're not, so you're going home."

"You mean '_we'_, yeah? Colin?' Dennis frowned up at his brother as Colin looked at the floor. 'You scummy rat! You're gonna stay!"

Colin hissed for him to be quiet, grabbing his arm tightly. "Will you _shut it_?"

"No! What the hell is this?' snapped Dennis, ripping his arm from Colin's vice-like grip. 'You think you can just Floo me home like some baby and stay here and try and be a big hero? No way in hell, Colin! I want to help just as much as you do."

"What can you do, Dennis?' whispered Colin harshly. 'You're not even fifteen yet! You're only just learning about Unforgiveables."

Dennis glared at him. "Harry wasn't even fifteen when he was in the Tri-wizard tournament."

"Harry's different."

"Why? Because he's Harry Potter? Because he's The Boy Who Lived? The Chosen one? That's bollocks and you know it as much as I do. We've seen all the things he's done, all the things he can do, but at the end of the day he's just as average as we are, and yet he gets to fight every single time just because he's "_special_"? And I have to miss out because I'm not?"

"No, cause you're only fourteen you little wanker, _that's_ why!"

"So? You're only sixteen!"

"Are you two quite all right over there?"

Colin and Dennis looked around to see that they were the last two left, save for the four students staying and the two other wizards. They were looking at them in concern; obviously their fight hadn't been as hushed as Colin had originally thought.

Colin shoved Dennis toward the fireplace. "Fine, thanks."

"We can't wait any longer.' said the pink-haired one. 'You four staying, come with me. Dawlish, make sure this lot…"

"We can do it.' said Colin grumpily. 'We're not kids."

"All the same…"

"All the same there's a war going on and you need an Auror far more than we need a Babysitter."

"If you think for one minute I'm going to just leave you up here alone…"

"With all due respect, lady, I don't care what you think. If you'd like, I could stay behind and help, then we could forget about all this and we could all go down and kick some Death Eater ass together."

Dennis smacked him in the arm. "If he's fighting then so am I!"

She ground her teeth together as the castle shook again. To his surprise, Colin felt a little intimidated under her stare, but he stood his ground, putting himself just the tiniest bit in front of his brother.

"What's your name?"

"Colin Creevey."

"You're a stubborn little asshole, Colin Creevey."

"Yes, ma'am."

The castle shook again, this time with more force. The window panes shuddered, and Colin was sure he heard one of them crack.

The Auror, Dawlish, took his small, pink-haired friend by the shoulder. "They're breaking down the enchantments, I can feel it. We need to move _now_, Tonks."

"Just go.' insisted Colin seeing Tonks's expression. 'We'll be fine, honestly."

Tonks sighed heavily with reluctance. "No funny business. I mean it!"

Colin put his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

She pointed warningly at him, quirked an eyebrow and turned and left, Dean, Neville, Seamus, Lavender and Dawlish in her wake.

As soon as the portrait swung shut, Colin shoved Dennis toward the flaming fireplace. "Right, get in.'

"Not without you."

"Dennis, don't be a ponce. Get in!"

"I said not without you!'

Colin balled his hands into fists. "I swear to God, I will start swinging…"

"Go on then, do it.' challenged Dennis, shoving Colin. 'Smack me, curse me, I don't care! I am not leaving this castle without you, and you are not staying here without me."

"Yes, I am, and yes, you are!"

_BANG_!

Colin hugged Dennis protectively, shielding him with his shoulders as the window panes smashed, sending shards of glass everywhere. The sound from outside suddenly increased massively in volume; flashes of different colored lights seemed to light up the night sky like fireworks, screams like some protest with thousands of people hovered through the air.

Colin grabbed Dennis by the front of his school shirt. "Dennis, please, I'm asking you… I'm _begging_ you… get in the fireplace and go home! It's not safe for you here!"

"It's not safe for you either.' Dennis looked up with Colin; their anger had abated, taken over by a sudden desperation. 'What was the first thing we agreed on back in June last year?"

"Not to turn Butterbeer into a frozen dessert and try and sell it."

"Okay, the second thing."

Colin pursed his lips. "We stick together."

"Exactly!"

"We also promised to look out for each other. I promised Dad. I told him I wouldn't let anything happen to you, and if you stayed here with me…"

"I can help you, Colin. I can help."

Colin considered his brother for a long moment. He wanted to stay so badly, he wanted to fight, but more than that he didn't want Dennis to come to any harm. In the end, really, it wasn't a hard decision to make.

"Fine.' He said finally. 'Let's go home."

Dennis frowned with suspicion. "Come off it."

"You're more important to me than staying here. They won't miss me. Let's go home."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Dennis frowned even more. Colin rolled his eyes, grabbed a large handful of Floo Powder from the bowl on the mantelpiece and poured some into Dennis's fist. "Come on. Get in there before I change my mind."

"You promise? You're not just gonna ditch me?"

"I'll be right behind you."

Dennis' lip curled skeptically. Colin just raised his eyebrows, patted Dennis's back and pushed him gently toward the fireplace. After a long moment of hesitation, Dennis slowly stepped in, ducking under the mantle. He glared at Colin, as if waiting for him to bolt at any second, but Colin just stood there.

"I'll see you at home.' said Colin, nodding.

Dennis pursed his lips. He paused for another moment, then finally threw the powder down, shouted, "Thirty five, Huntingdale Road, Manchester!" and disappeared in a whoosh of green flames.

Colin finally let out the breath he had been holding, relief flooding through him. The castle shook again, the portraits around him clattering and crying out in fear and protest. He ignored them and stepped up to the fireplace, clenching the powder in his hand. He let out another long breath, not wanting to have one last look at the room behind him. The castle shook again; he pointed his wand at the fireplace and said, '_Aguamenti'_.

A stream of water shot from his wand, extinguishing the fire.

Satisfied and relieved, Colin tossed the powder carelessly onto the scarlet rug at his feet and bolted from the room, gripping his wand tightly.

-------------------------

"LILY DUCK!"

The jet of green light missed Lily's head by millimeters; she dropped to her knees, her hands fisting wet grass as the curse ruffled her hair. She rolled to the left, got up in a crouch and aimed.

"_STUPEFY_!"

The cloaked figure deflected it and sent back another curse. Lily was already on her feet and raised a shield, deflecting his curse right back at him. As he raised a shield again, someone ran at him from the side, out of his peripheral vision, and with a blinding light sent him crashing into the nearby tree where he fell to the ground, limp, and moved no more.

Remus ducked another spell as he ran over and grabbed her hand. "Are you okay?"

"Yes I'm… _INCARCEROUS_!... yes I'm fine. Good God, Remus! What happened to your arm?"

"It's nothing. Just a scratch."

"It's The River Kwai!"

"Don't fuss, we need to move!"

"Wait! Wait!' Lily pulled him to a stop. 'Have you seen Harry yet?"

Remus looked at her, breathing as heavily as she was. "Quite frankly he could miss the whole thing for all I care, but you and I both know that simply won't happen. I'm sure he'll be here soon."

Lily nodded, not sure if she was reassured by this or not.

They ducked as another three spells flew over their heads. Remus squeezed her hand.

"Kingsley's outnumbered! Come on!"

The grounds were utter chaos as they ran through the masses of people, like running through a gauntlet of death. It was like Hogsmeade all over again, but far more aggressive. Hogsmeade had been a trap, a diversion – this was all-out war. Spells were flying everywhere with reckless abandon. People were screaming; the great oak tree down by the lake was in a ball of flame, the face of Hogwarts castle was scarred with scorch marks, chips of stone blasted away, glass windows shattered. The grass was already strewn with bodies, some still and lifeless, some withering in pain, others mutilated with boils, burns, curses or missing limbs, crying out in agony. Lily's chest clenched with panic and fear and power and determination all at once, like some mixed chemical reaction, and she tried to ignore it everything she ran along behind Remus, leaping over bodies, ducking spells, shielding against curses and throwing jinxes. His hand tightly clasped in hers was the only thing keeping her head on straight.

Kingsley was at the bottom of the stone steps when they found him, only just managing to hold off four Death Eaters all by himself. Lily and Remus let go of each other's hands and stepped in to help.

"_Incendio_!"

Lily bent forward and rammed herself into the Death Eater, whose robes she had just set fire of the hem to. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground hard, and Lily stunned him before he even had a chance to recover. She felt a hand grab her shoulder and they turned her around roughly. In the moment they raised their wand to curse her, Lily jammed her wand roughly into their ribs, shouted "_Depulso_!" and sent the Death Eater flying; he landed on a fellow masked figure roughly, both of them collapsing to the ground in a heap.

She ran over toward Kingsley and the two Death Eaters he was dueling at once, knocking her shoulder hard into a particularly small one. Shocked by the physical contact, she faltered, and Lily took the opportunity to raise her wand and shout, "_Stupefy_!"

"Will you stop bashing them around?'

Lily looked away from Kingsley, who had finally taken care of the last cloaked figure and was not kneeling down beside them, over at Remus who was still in the middle of a duel. She rushed over, wand raised again.

"_Relashio_! This is a war, isn't it? We're meant to be… _Protego_!... fighting, after all!"

"Sometimes I think you still think you're a … _Petrificus Totalus_!... _bloody Muggle_!"

Finally able to take a moment, Lily flipped her red hair out of her face and grinned. "Old habits die hard, I suppose.' But her smile fell when she saw the Auror kneeling down beside the Death Eater he had just unmasked. 'Kingsley? You all right?"

Kingsley ran a finger down the unconscious man's wrinkled face. "Arnold Peasegood. He works in the Department of Magical Catastrophes. I've known him for nineteen years. I've had Sunday lunches at his house with his wife and children."

Remus knelt down beside him and squeezed his shoulder. "Even some of the best of us can not fight the Imperious Curse."

BANG!

The three of them flinched as a large section of the stone wall behind them was blown apart by a rogue spell; Kingsley had lain down protectively over his friend.

"We can't stay here.' said Remus. 'He'll be all right, Kingsley. Your stunner would most likely have jolted him out of his possession. It's a terrible loss, but…"

"I know.' Kingsley's voice was even deeper when he was emotional. He stood up, looking down at his friend regretfully. 'Mad-Eye will need assistance up in the castle. He's taken two teams of eight up to the turrets to try and give us an advantage, both in force and visually. I will go meet them. Lily, what do you…? _Lily_?"

Remus frowned as he looked around. Lily had gone. "_LILY_! Merlin's beard, where is she?"

BANG!

Kingsley grabbed Remus roughly by the robes, pulling him out of the way just as a large chunk on granite fell from above them.

"Lupin, we need to move!"

"But… Lily…"

"She'll be fine, I'm sure. We'll try and spot her from the towers! Now come on!"

Remus looked around once more, and saw masses of people, flashes of light, but no deep red hair. Frustrated and irritably, Remus gave in to Kingsley's insistent tugging and followed him into the castle.

--------------

"Ginny! Look out!"

In the split second it took for Ginny's mind to catch up with this advice, another wand had reached out in front of her, conjured a large shield and sent the yellow spell firing back at its owner, causing them to scream in pain as their skin erupted in hundred of pus-filled boils. In his distracted moment, Ginny stunned him, knocking the young wizard to the ground.

Ginny swallowed, breathing hard. "Thanks, Fleur."

Her sister-in-law looked at her blearily. "Honestly, where iz your 'ead? Ziz is not one of your classes! You could be killed! I don't even know what it iz you are doing 'ere in ze first…"

"_STUPEFY_!"

Fleur screamed as Ginny literally leapt on top of her as if they were playing some backwards version of leap frog and cursed the wild-eyed woman who had appeared behind Fleur, wand raised and ready to kill. The woman let out a harsh cry of surprise before she too fell to the ground next to her pus-filled ally.

Fleur, half-hugging Ginny as she set herself back on the ground, looked around at the woman, then back at Ginny in shock. "Ginny… I…"

"Honestly,' chuckled Ginny, 'where iz your 'ead!"

Fleur laughed and properly hugged Ginny just as Bill ran over, ducking spells as he went. He grabbed Fleur and spun her around to face him.

"Voldemort in a jam jar! I just saw you… Ginny, you… _are you two all right_?"

The grass beside them exploded, and Bill pushed both girls forward, spinning around to shield them both. Four Death Eaters ran toward them, wand raised, masks gone revealing enraged faces. Ginny could feel Bill's muscles tense as she grabbed his shoulders; they almost expanded, as if he were swelling up a size. She tried not to panic, her own body just as tense. She looked at Fleur, ready to find her just as nervous, but was utterly shocked to find her looking completely calm.

She placed a soft hand at the back of Bill's neck and whispered in his ear, almost too low for Ginny to make out, "Do it."

Ginny snatched her hand back away from Bill's shoulder as if she'd been electrocuted; some sort of current seemed to flow through him as he stood up to his full height, his normally peaceful blue eyes blazing. He seemed to snarl, somewhere in the base of his throat, and just as the Death Eaters were less than ten meters away he dropped to one knee, shoved the tip of his wand into the ground and growled, "_EXPULSO_!".

The ground rumbled, and with a loud crack the ground exploded in a long, thick, dirty line like a giant worm burrowing under the earth, right from the tip of Bill's wand to the Death Eaters. It didn't stop them completely, but it was good enough; they stumbled, one falling forward onto their face, two crashing sideways into each other, one who had been only a few feet behind stopped and tried to run back.

Fleur had stunned the fallen Death Eater before she had time to get up. Bill pointed his wand at the bulky man trying to keep his distance. "_Accio_!"

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Ginny would have laughed at the comical way the bulky Death Eater was yanked toward Bill, as if someone had grabbed him by the back of his robes and dragged him backwards. He cried out and only just managed to turn when Bill threw a hard punch into his face, kicked him in the gut and them elbowed him hard in the back. Blinking away her surprise, Ginny ran forward and stunned the Death Eater Fleur was battling from behind. Fleur sent the third Death Eater flying with a quick, elegant upward jerk of her wand, and then stunned the fourth Bill was fighting with a satisfied nod.

Bill looked over at her and laughed. "I knew there was a reason I married you, you gorgeous thing!"

"Bill, _really_! Your sister iz 'ere!"

"Yeah, I noticed that!' he rushed forward and grabbed Ginny's arm. 'I thought the whole reason Mum came and picked you up today was to take you _away_ from all this! What are you doing here?"

"You think I was going to sit at home and wait while the rest of you came and fought?' snarled Ginny. 'Fat bloody chance, Bill!"

"This isn't the place for you!"

"And home is?"

"At least home is safe!"

"I want to fight!"

"You're too young!"

"I'm nearly seventeen!"

"You're a baby!"

"I am _not_ a…"

"_QUIET_!"

Bill and Ginny, whose faces had both been flushed as red as their hair and contorted in anger, involuntarily bounced back from each other with the force of the shield Fleur had cast between them.

"'_Ave you both forgotten where we are_?" she snapped.

"No, which is exactly why Ginny needs to go home! Right now!"

"I'm not going anywhere but into that castle."

"You take one step in there and I'll…"

"You'll _what_, Bill? Give me detention? You're not my teacher anymore and you're certainly not my father!"

Fleur grabbed Bill's arm as he moved for Ginny again. "Bill, we do not 'ave time for this!"

Bill relaxed slightly at his wife's touch. He stared at Ginny, trying to do the 'I'm your big brother you should do what I say if you know what's good for you' look, but she just stared right back at him with eyes older than he remembered.

He pursed his lips. "Will you stay where I can see you?"

"Bill, I don't need…"

"I know you think you don't need me to look after you, Ginny, but just for once can you please do what I ask you?"

Ginny flinched at his tone. He wasn't usually one to yell or get mad, especially with her. He was normally the cool, together member of the Weasley clan, and it was always a bit of a shock to the system to hear him raise his voice. Looking up at him now, his eyes blazing, his face scarred yet still handsome and freckled, lights flashing and loud noises and screams around them, Ginny couldn't help but relent to his request.

"What, you going to protect me with your new found power?' She frowned. 'Where'd you learn that stuff anyway? I've never seen you do anything like that before."

"Part of the perks.' He smiled, gesturing to his face.

"I've never seen Lupin do anything like that before."

"Lupin doesn't embrace it like I do. And I'm only slightly contaminated. Imagine what he could do if he really wanted."

Ginny shivered at the thought as they began back toward the castle, her hand in Fleur's. The main focus was on the massive structure; Ginny guessed they were trying to take it completely, but the Auror's and the Order weren't going to let them in easily.

Half way there, out of no-where someone went crashing into them. Ginny fell to the ground, almost dragging Fleur down with her. She heard Bill cry out in rage, ready to fire when a familiar voice shouted:

"Hey, it's me! Its okay! It's just me!"

Bill sighed with relief. "Lily, what the _hell_…"

Lily smiled apologetically as she looked around frantically. "Yeah, I know, I wasn't watching… I'm looking for… oh, Ginny, darling, I'm so-… _Ginny_! What are you _doing_ here? We told you to stay at Grimmauld Place!"

"Do you 'ave some sort of 'earing impairment?' asked Fleur, looking concerned.

"No, she's just a stubborn little git.' huffed Bill.

BOOM!

The ground, not a meter away from Fleur's foot exploded, sending dirt and grass everywhere. Ginny was pushed to the side roughly by someone; she couldn't see who through the cloud of dust. The was a loud, deep roar, like an enormous animal, and she was suddenly running, and she could hear Bill let out another cry of anger and Fleur scream; she looked around to see Lily pushing her along by the shoulders, looking behind them in panic.

"What happened? Where's Bill?"

"We have to move, Ginny."

"But…_my brother_…"

"We'll get back around, I promise, but we need to move or we're going to get stepped on!"

Ginny frowned, wondering what the hell she was talking about, when another deafening roar sounded through the grounds. Ducking behind a nearby tree, Lily right behind her, Ginny looked back to see what had happened. Her mouth dropped open.

There were eight of them, all at least twenty feet tall, with ugly faces and skin that hung like some sort of old, leathery potato sack covering their bones, massive clubs twice the size of the average man clutched in their bulging fists. Ginny had never seen a giant up-close, and wasn't at all excited to be experiencing it now.

"I guess they proved that theory right.' said Lily in Ginny's ear. 'Bloody giants! If they had any intelligence they would have realized that Voldemort's the whole reason they were mistreated in the first place, not gone and joined up with him!"

"They're not all like that.'

"Yeah, well, I think political correctness is pretty much redundant at this point.'

Ginny felt Lily's fingers tighten around her arm; almost sensing Ginny's irresistible need to run back out into the action. She watched in horror as the Giants swung their clubs around, occasionally connecting with a wizard, knocking him or her flying into the air only to land very awkwardly yards away and not get up. Wizards surrounded each of them, trying to bring them down with different spells, but their skin was tough, like a Dragon, and the Giants continued swinging like they were batting away flies.

"We have to do something!"

"Don't worry; the Giants will be taken care of. Now, I want you to stay here…"

"They'll what? But, Mrs. Potter…"

"Ginny, you go anywhere near those Giants and I swear to God I will never let you see my son again!" Ginny frowned as Lily fixed her with a firm stare. 'I want you to stay here out of trouble."

"Where are you going?"

Lily looked over her shoulder back out into the chaos. "I have someone I need to find. But I'm going to go and make you a Portkey first and send you back to Grimmauld Place."

"No! I'm not…"

"Ginny, look at me!' snapped Lily, not unkindly. 'This isn't about being patronizing and this isn't about thinking that you are not capable of handling yourself. You're an extraordinary, powerful young witch, and I know it's probably a really bad time to tell you this but I love you as if you were one of my own children, truly I do. But people are going to die today, dozens, maybe even hundreds, and I don't want you to be one of those people. None of us do. So can you please, _please_, help us all out by setting our minds just that little bit more at ease and _go home_?"

Ginny screwed up her face stubbornly, gripping her wand tightly in her fist. The moment stretched on and on, and just as she was about to answer the tree they were hiding behind erupted into flames. Lily pushed Ginny out of harms way and turned to the Death Eaters approaching, wand raised. Ginny rushed to her feet to help her, but someone grabbed her by her hair and dragged her backward. She screamed, trying to turn around, to free herself, and she could hear Lily calling for her over the shouts of curses and the loud crackling of the fire.

"Lemme go!' she snarled. 'Let GO!"

"Not a pretty little girl like you.' sneered a slimy voice in her ear. His arm snaked around her front, pulling her into his big frame. He grabbed her fist as she tried to stick her wand in his eye. 'Oh dear, we can't start off that way now can we?"

"Let go of me or I'll curse you into next week!"

"You're very feisty.' He wheezed a laugh. 'I like that in a girl. You smell nice too; of soot and grass and fear…"

Ginny wriggled frantically. "Don't! Please! HELP!"

He laughed again. "No-one's coming for you. No-one can hear you. You're mine! All…"

"_STUPEFY_!"

She cried out as the man let out a surprised grunt and pitched forward slightly. With revulsion she shoved back hard with her shoulders and he fell to the ground in a heap. Ginny kicked the limp body with an angry cry and looked around to see who had assisted her. She looked up into the sky and her chest filled with a warm fuzzy feeling.

Harry swooped down, skidding to a halt in mid-air just a meter from the ground. He looked awful, as if he'd been out there fighting the whole time; his face was cut and his clothes were torn. He leapt off his Firebolt and rushed to her.

"Are you okay? Why are you by yourself? That bloke could have killed you!"

Ginny frowned and punched him in the arm.

"Ow! What was _that_ for?"

"You're late!"

"_Fashionably_ late. It's the only way I know."

"You're also an ass. A late ass."

Harry rubbed his arm while Ginny glared at him… then they smiled at each other and hugged tightly. Ginny had never been more happy to see anyone in her entire life.

"I'm sorry, I know. I had to fly here."

"Where have you been? Where did you go in such a rush?"

"London."

"What the hell did you go there for?"

"Voldemort was there. He was killing people and I couldn't just let… _PROTEGO_!"

The dirt that had come flying toward them bounced off Harry's shield. Ginny looked at him, taking a moment to feel very impressed. She hadn't seen him to magic in months, and she could tell he had improved, if that were even possible. This was the Harry she remembered teaching them defensive spells, jinxes and Patronuses in the Room of Requirement years ago, the Harry who had fought of Dementors and Dragons and a Basilisk. Although he looked glad to see her, he also looked disappointed that it was under such horrible circumstances.

He looked around the grounds, his eyes hard. "Looks like the party started without me."

"We couldn't wait for you."

"I know, and I'm glad you didn't.' He looked at her and smiled. 'I'm surprised they let you come."

"Yeah, well… they were desperate for people and I'm only too happy to help."

The ground beside them exploded again and Harry grabbed Ginny's hand as they ran, but as Harry tried to run toward the school, Ginny tried to run in the other direction toward the Giants. They stopped each other with a jolt and looked around at one another.

"This way, come on."

"I can't. I promised Bill.' Harry frowned, and Ginny knew what was going through his head. 'Just go, I'll be all right. I'll catch up with you later."

"You promise?"

"All these promises! Anyone would think you lot didn't trust me."

"Ginny…"

"Yes, I promise. Of course I do."

There was another loud bang and Harry and Ginny flinched. Harry looked around with a determined expression, and she squeezed his hand. "It's okay! Go!"

He hesitated. Then his expression softened slightly and he grabbed her arms. "You still my girl?"

Ginny smiled. "Always."

With a small, satisfied smirk he grabbed her by the back of the head, closed the distance between them and kissed her firm on the lips. In the short moment it lasted the sound, the danger, the world almost disappeared.

He pulled back far too quickly and fixed her with a stern look. "Don't die."

And then he was gone, running off into the midst of cloaks and spells and giants with almost a spring to his step, as if this were the moment he'd been waiting for all his life – which, she supposed, it actually was.

With one last look, she gripped her wand tightly and ran off in the other direction.

----------------------

Draco circled above the chaos, keeping his eyes peeled for four things all at once; stray curses, a giant's club, a flash of blonde hair and a flash of pink hair. His wand was held tight in his left hand, his right hand gripped the broom handle so hard his already pale knuckles were white. Most wizards, combining these two factors with the current environment and a shaky, nervous disposition would have no doubt fallen right out of the sky by now. Draco Malfoy was glad to report he was not one of these wizards.

He flew around in circles, his grey eyes narrowed. Where could she be? He knew she was here. Where else would she go? She was his main priority, nothing else mattered. He had to find her, and he was going to sweep her up on his broom and fly them as far away from this war as fast as he could.

He heard an annoyingly familiar voice in his head say, _Coward_.

This moment of distraction was all that was needed; a white hot pain suddenly hit Draco's left leg and he screamed in pain. Slipping awkwardly off his broom to the left he only just managed to keep his grip, hooking his right leg around the base of the handle. His eyes were streaming with tears of pain as he tried to lower himself to the ground. Jerkily, he tried to descend, and was only ten meters above the ground when his broom exploded and he free fell with a cry, landing awkwardly on his side with a crunch. He groaned, pain shooting up his right arm and shakily got to his feet, still aware despite the pain in both his arm and his knee that he was in the middle of a warzone. He gripped his wand tightly in his left hand and looked around to get his bearings.

A roar sounded behind him, and he whirled around just in time to see a massive foot raised and ready to stamp down right on top of him. Draco leapt back out of the way just as the enormous heel smashed down into the earth, making the ground rumble. There were seven wizards nearby firing spells up at the giant, but like a Dragon its skin seemed to be almost complete impervious to magic, and so it just kept swinging its club, kicking wizards, sending them flying with deep grumbling laughs of satisfaction. Not stupid enough to stick around, Draco ran off in the other direction, toward the school, ducking curses as he went.

Despite the chaos and the near certainty of injury, or worse, Draco couldn't help but feel a familiar buzz; the buzz he always felt when he arrived up the gravel driveway on September first, the massive castle looming over him. For all his complaints about how the school was run, (complaints which were very profound and completely necessary if anything was to be done about the appalling standards of the faculty and the curriculum) he did like Hogwarts. How could he not? It was the finest magical institute there was, and a Malfoy deserved nothing but the finest…

"_OOF_!"

Draco went crashing to the ground again as someone large rammed into him from the side. The cloaked figure straightened up, their mask falling away and Draco saw that it was…

"Alecto!"

The witch looked down at Draco with surprise, and then her expression darkened into a sneer. "_Draco Malfoy_!"

Draco scrambled to his feet, his hand still holding his wand determinedly. "Yes yes, truly shocking to see me… must stop meeting like this… whatever you barmy old woman! Have you seen my mother?"

With a speed he would never have expected from such an old woman, Alecto Carrow let out an angry scream and rushed forward. Before Draco knew what was happening he was on the ground again and stubby fingers were wrapped around his neck.

"You little scheming traitor!' she snarled in his ear. 'You ruined everything for the Master! Everything!"

"Get…off…me!"

Draco tried to maneuver his wand around but she was sitting right on top of his chest, her knees pinning his arms down. He tried to wriggle free but she was heavy and her grip on his throat tightened.

"He will reward me… oh yes he will… I will be the one to lay the broken body of the youngest Malfoy at his feet!"

"No… you…"

His words were cut off as her fingers tightened. Draco tried to focus, to get a grip on himself, to try and manipulate the magic within him and push it outward, but stars were appearing in his vision as his primal need for air, for survival, kicked in. He wriggled fiercely, gasping for breath, but the world was starting to black out around him. _Not like this_, he thought manically, _not like this…_

Then there was a scream, and pain shot down Draco's neck; fingernails clawed along his skin as Alecto was ripped upward and away from him. He sat up on his hands and looked up with amazement.

Narcissa pulled Alecto's head back sharply by her hair and sneered, "Get your filthy hands off of my son."

"_Mother_!"

With an almost dignified snarl (if such a thing existed), Narcissa drew the tip of her wand along Alecto's throat; a long red line appeared and blood dripped from the cut. Alecto's eyes bugled as she coughed and spluttered, and Narcissa stood up, letting go of Alecto's hair as if she were a rotten egg. The old woman fell beside Draco and moved no more.

Draco looked away from the dead body beside him to his mother. She was preening herself, lights flashing around her, making her long golden hair glow impressively. She was looking down at him with a mixture of horror, disbelief, anger and relief.

"Draco,' her tone was harsh, 'what in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

"I'm… here to rescue you."

For the tiniest of moments it looked like she was actually going to laugh. Instead, she rolled her eyes and jerked her wand upward; Draco was quickly standing on his feet. He didn't waste any time with pleasantries. Grabbing her hand tightly he pulled her with him, half-running, dodging curses and explosions and fire and rogue swinging clubs as they weaved their way back toward the school. Draco nudged the large oak doors open with his shoulder and ignoring the pain, he lead his mother up through the empty Entrance Hall and up one, two, three, four flights of stairs until she finally pulled him forcefully to a stop.

"Draco this is absurd! Where are you taking me?"

"To the Room of Requirement. You'll be safe in there."

"The _what_? Excuse me? Safe? What you to mean 'me'? Draco what is all this nonsense you're speaking of?"

SMASH!

Draco shielded Narcissa with his shoulders as every window along the corner exploded, sending shards of glass everywhere. The noise from outside intensified as if the volume had suddenly been turned up.

Narcissa let out an annoyed huff and flipped her hair out of her face. "We need to leave. _Now_. It's not safe here, especially for us."

"Indeed, yes. Go home… pack some things… here, take this coin, I will contact you with it…"

"What do you mean?' Narcissa looked up from the tiny coin in her hand, puzzled.

Draco squared his jaw and looked out of the window. "I'm staying here."

"You most certainly are not! Didn't you see what just happened with Alecto? You go out there and even attempt try to reconcile they'll kill you before you've even spoken the first syllable! And we have not spent an entire year apart just to be separated again!"

"I'm not talking about them."

"I don't understand."

"Oh, right, of course… you don't remember…"

"_Remember what_?"

BOOM! The walls of the castle shook again.

Draco sighed impatiently. "Mother, I don't have time to explain all this to you right now but… I've been living with the Order of the Phoenix for the past nine months. Living with Nymphadora. They've… _she's_… sort of just… kept me."

Narcissa's blue eyes narrowed. "You've _WHAT_?" All propriety was gone. The cool, calm exterior she wore every day of her life crumbled right before her eyes; the mixture of stress and loss and suffering she had been feeling for so long was too much to bear anymore. "I don't… you… it's… Draco! Why did you let them do such a thing to you?"

"I went to Nymphadora months ago. She took me in…"

"Your cousin? Andromeda's daughter? That half-blood!"

"Mother…"

"Why didn't you come to me?"

"The Dark Lord would have killed me, and killed you for trying to assist me! It was safer for both of us for me to stay away."

"We could have run. We can run now."

Draco blinked. "That's it? That's all the scalding you're going to give your traitorous, disappointment of a son?"

"I will kill you later. Right now we need to leave!"

"I told you I'm not leaving."

"Draco, please stop this madness and come with me. We can go somewhere no-one will ever find us."

"Mother I have spend the last good year hiding in the most decrepit building you will ever see in your life and I can tell you now without any hint of conviction that _I am sick to death and beyond of hiding_.'

Narcissa blinked, visibly shocked by Draco's tone.

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Please don't think I'm suddenly a muggle lover, mother, because that's not what this is about. Think about what will happen tonight if the Dark Lord wins. He will find us, make our lives more of a misery than it has been for the past three years, punish us for disservice, he will kill father and more terrible, unimaginable things. We know just as well as anyone what he is capable of. But if Potter wins…' he looked out the window at the flashing lights. 'No, not 'if' – 'when'. Potter _will_ beat him tonight, I'm sure of it. He's too ridiculous to die now after all this time. They'll win, I know they will, and I want to help them but not because I care about what they stand for, but because the life they will give us will be infinitely better than the one the Dark Lord will."

The castle shook again, and Draco blessed its timing. It wasn't often he flushed, only when he was particularly frustrated, embarrassed or lying… and his mother always knew which one he was feeling. He didn't want her to know that he did care about the fate of someone, as surprising as it was to realize that that's what that stupid feeling was, now of all moments.

He squeezed her upper arms. "Please, Mother, go somewhere you will be safe and I will meet you there."

She pursed her lips, a million thoughts, retorts and demands obviously running through her head at once. Draco's grip on his wand tightened in his pocket; he was prepared for her to stun him and drag him off by his ear if she had to.

But, after a long moment, all she said was, "Do you promise?"

"Yes, now please before they find us here."

Narcissa hesitated and then rushed forward and embraced him tightly. Like at Christmas all those months again, Draco shivered at the contact after so many long months apart. He pulled her closer and snuggled into her, allowing himself a moment of unabashed, selfish need before they were two people again and he was giving her a curt smile and was running off down the hall, back toward the Entrance Hall.

----------

Harry didn't know why no-one had tried to kill him yet. There hadn't even been a jelly-leg curse thrown his way. Had Voldemort told them to stay away from him? Had the Death Eaters been given specific instructions that he was for Voldemort and Voldemort alone to finish? Had the idiot learnt nothing in the past seventeen years of "trying to finish him off himself"?

Despite the fact Harry was ducking spells, running for his life and leaping over lifeless bodies he didn't know were friend or foe, he couldn't help but smile at the thought. What a git!

It did give him an idea though – one he planned to put in to use as soon as he could find…

It was then, just as he ducked another rogue curse, that he spotted the familiar bushy head he'd been searching for. Harry heart leapt and he sprinted toward her. It was like he was running through mud, he wanted to go faster but his legs wouldn't let him. People kept getting in the way but he barged past them, shoving them out of the way, not even stopping to apologize.

"Hermione! HERMIONE!"

At the sound of her name she whirled around, and despite the situation they were currently in she smiled at the sight of him running toward her, a smile he recognized from whenever he stepped off his broom after a Quidditch match or woke up in hospital after hideous, sinister ordeal – _relief_. She looked over her shoulder and signaled at someone, and it was only when she ran toward him that Harry saw Ron behind her, on his knees with his wand in one hand and something long and shiny in the other. At Hermione's signal he was on his feet and running along behind her, firing curses and blasting people out of their way. Harry could tell they felt the same as him; that overwhelming sense of urgency to be together, like a magnetic force pulling them together that wouldn't relent until their triangle clicked into place.

When they finally reached each other they said nothing at first. Then Harry pointed. "What's with the sword?"

Ron looked down at the ruby-encrusted hilt in his left hand and shrugged with a smile. "Its war, isn't it? Seemed fitting."

"I told him he looks ludicrous.' added Hermione.

Harry smiled. "You seen my mum anywhere?"

"Not since we got here.'

"Bugger it."

Then several things happened at once. The ground exploded and Hermione was thrown off her feet with a loud scream. Harry, seeing the huge chunk of rubble fall out of the corner of his eye, ran forward and shoved Ron sharply out of the way; their feet became tangled and the two of them fell to the ground in an awkward heap.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE WHERE ARE YOU?" Ron practically threw Harry off him and scrambled to his feet. He looked around frantically as he pulled Harry up by the scruff of his shirt. "I don't see her! Do you see her? HERMIONE!"

The ground exploded again and dust and dirt and spells flew everywhere. Harry grabbed Ron's arm and tried to drag him along, out of harms way, but Ron was resisting, screaming Hermione's name, thrashing around trying to get out of Harry's grip. A large group of people had suddenly apparated around them, screaming and firing curses in every direction.

"Ron, come on!"

"Lemme go! I promised I wouldn't leave her!"

"We need to get out of here!"

"NO! Let. Me. GO!"

"RON!" Harry practically screamed into Ron's face as he shook him by the front of his shirt. 'We'll find her, I promise! But we have to be alive to do it and we won't be much longer if we don't move! Right now!"

Ron clenched his jaw, the expression on his face indicating that such a decision almost caused him physical pain. But Harry set his jaw and shook him again, and after a long moment Ron nodded and trailed off after Harry.

------

Hermione jumped out of the way just as a spell hi the ground, missing her foot by inches. She jerked her head irritably, flipping hair out of her face as she aimed and growled, "_Stupefy_!"

Rookwood cast the spell aside easily and quickly returned two of his own. Hermione blocked one and only just managed to dance out of the way of the other, but he was firing more off in quick succession, and Hermione could do nothing but cast shield after shield. Every step he took forward she took one back, frantically trying to keep up with his lightning fast moves while her mind was focused solely on Ron and Harry. _Where were they_? She couldn't look around to check.

The spells stopped for a moment and Rookwood looked at Hermione curiously. "You know, you're quite good… for a Mudblood."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you."

Angered with her unexpected reaction, Rookwood snarled and started throwing curses again, more aggressively than before. Hermione danced and flourished, only just managing to block attack after attack. Some part of her kept expecting Ron to show up and knock Rookwood out, or turn his legs into jelly, or even slice his head off with that sword of his. Had the situation not been so dire, Hermione probably would have laughed at the absurdness of this last one.

The more curses fired so quickly Hermione barely saw him raise his wand… one… two… three…

Hermione screamed in pain as the fourth one went sailing past her shield and hit her right in the knee. She dropped to her other knee, only just managing to hold her shield up, but the next curse was big and hard and hit the shield with such force Hermione's wrist snapped back with a crack. She bent over double and cradled her wrist to her chest, taking slow, uneven breaths through her nose, her jaw clenched to smother her groans of pain.

A pair of black boots and the hem of a robe came into her vision, followed by a laugh. "Good – but not good enough."

Hermione raised her wand, ready to curse but Rookwood was on his knees in front of her and gripped her wrist again, squeezing tightly. She cried out again.

Rookwood smiled, put the tip of his wand under her chin and made her look up. "You know, its times like this I really miss working for the Department of Mysteries. There was a device we once had – before the Ministry took it away and locked it up in storage – one of our reconnaissance teams found it out in Norway. It was a tiny little ring with a gem the colour of a daisy, and when you wore it and pressed your hand against another person, their skin would feel like white-hot flames were burning them from the inside out. Can you imagine that? These poor, desperate people would claw at their own flesh, desperate to get to the flames and put them out. Wizards and witches would literally tear themselves to pieces, gouge their own eyes out… and all because of some silly little piece of jewelry.'

He bent in close to Hermione's face. Hermione flinched away, repulsed, but his grip on her chin was tight. "Can you imagine something like that? A curse so horrific it would make you _beg_ for Cruciatus."

"I bet you loved it.' she spat. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp again, but his fingers only dug in more. The pain in her knee was becoming almost unbearable.

"I always had it in mind to give to our Master for moments such as this. As shame I couldn't use is on Potter's Mudblood mother."

Hermione's skin prickled with panic, anger, pain and magic. For the first time her eyes connected with his. "Yes. Such a same."

"Still,' he ran a finger down Hermione's cheek. She flinched and tried to pull away again. 'It will be just as satisfying to lay waste to Potter's best friend. Oh yes, don't look so surprised, we know all about you. Hermione Granger, supposedly the brightest witch to walk the halls of Hogwarts in decades. Although you don't seem very remarkable now, I must say."

"You should see her when she's drunk.' said a new, familiar voice.

Rookwood only managed to turn his head a fraction before a large rock slammed into it. His eyes rolled up into his head with a tiny grunt and he fell limp onto the grass. Hermione cried out again in pain as he almost pulled her down with him; she shook his hands off her like he were poison ivy and looked up through the tears in her eyes.

Draco looked very awkward. He wriggled his fingers and, after a moment's pause, hesitantly held his hand out for her. "He always was one to waffle on."

Hermione let him help her to her feet. She winced as she looked down at the unconscious Death Eater, gingerly holding her knee. "You hit him with a rock?"

"I didn't want to waste my first spell in months on him.' Draco looked around. 'Where are your lackeys? Why are you by yourself?"

"We got separated. What are you doing here? _How_ did you get here?"

"I came with Potter. No thanks to any of you, by the way. The nerve! Leaving me behind like that!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she rubbed her knee. "Well I'm sorry that your feelings weren't on our priority list this evening, Malfoy."

Draco frowned and caught her by the shoulders as she swayed. "Did he break it? Your knee."

"I don't know. It feels like it."

"Should I… should I fix it?"

"No!' Then she smiled apologetically. 'I mean… you're not an expert at it. I'd rather see someone who won't turn my knee into a mushroom by mistake."

"Point taken. I remain only slightly offended."

At her slightly bent angle, Hermione saw Draco clutching his wand. He was twirling it, fingering it, jiggling it up and down, rubbing his thumb along the handle as if he were just itching to put it to use; which he probably was.

He looked at her awkwardly again, as if he wasn't sure why he was even still there. "So… should I help you look for Potter and Weasley or something?"

"If you like. Don't you want to go and find Tonks though?"

"And why would I want to do that?"

BANG!

Hermione screamed in pain again as Draco grabbed her by the shoulders, whirled her around and roughly moved them both out of the way just as a large chunk of castle wall landed where they had been standing moments before. They didn't have time to recover as a massive club came out of nowhere. Hermione only just managed to get her shield up in time, but the force of the Giant's swing was so powerful Draco lost his grip on her and she fell to ground again.

"Right, that's it.' snapped Draco. He puffed out his chest and glared up at the Giant. 'Come on, take another swing! I dare you!"

The Giant laughed down at him and menacingly tapped the end of his club in the palm of his other hand.

"Malfoy don't!' Hermione tried to scramble to her feet.

"Stay back, Granger!' Draco held out a hand and an invisible force pushed Hermione back to the ground. He smirked up at the Giant and raised his wand. 'I've waited a long time for this."

"Seven wizards can't even take one of these things down and you think you can do it _by yourself?!"_

"I'm a Malfoy. I can do anything."

"Don't be an idiot! Malfoy!"

But he wasn't listening. The Giant swung its club around like a baseball player preparing to bat, and Draco just laughed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Hermione tried to scramble frantically to her feet. It was absurd to think that he could take on a giant alone! Even Harry had needed help, and that had only been a troll! Had the extended period of time locked up in a house actually sent him mad? Or did he truly think he was that invincible?

"Come on then you disgusting swine!' shouted Draco, thumping his chest. "Hit me! HIT ME!"

The Giant roared and swung, and Draco raised his wand… and he was pulled backwards as if someone had grabbed him by the back of his shirt, narrowly missing being smashed in the face. Draco fell on the ground hard and didn't even have time to look around to see what had happened when another roar, even more earsplitting than that of the Giant sounded from the sky.

Someone pulled him roughly to his feet and a familiar voice – Hermione. She snarled in his ear, 'Come on! We need to move or we'll be barbequed!"

"_Wha_…?"

He was being dragged along, fingernails digging into his shoulder. He heard Hermione's cry of pain as whoever it was that was with them pulled her to her feet. They were pulled backward a few paces as the roar like thunder booming overhead sounded again, closer and more ferocious. Draco looked up and his mouth dropped open as a massive black dragon dropped from the sky, claws outstretched and teeth bared. The Giant only had time to raise its club before the Dragon was on him, sinking its claws into his leathery skin and flying into him so hard it knocked them both to the ground in a massive tangle of talons and fists and roars of pain. The ground beneath his feet rumbled with the force of it, and he ducked as more Dragons fell from the sky, almost six of them, nostrils flaring with ready flame as claws outstretched. The all went straight for the Giants, only narrowly missing the wizards on the ground.

"But that's impossible!" yelled Draco.

"_LOOK OUT_!"

Draco leapt aside, only just narrowly dodging a tail spike that thrust into the ground. He crawled hurriedly back over to Hermione, who was on the ground again. He helped her to her feet and the two of them half-ran away from the two wrestling beasts, away from the snarling and the sound of tearing flesh and bones being smashed and singed clothing.

Now that they were a safe distance away, Draco could have a better look at what was going on. There were seven Dragons in total, all of them either on top of a Giant or circling around it, swiping at it or shooting fire. It was very impressive, considering the circumstances.

"But this is impossible!" he breathed, watching in awe. 'Dragons are fiercely wild. You can not tame them! You can not wield their will to yours! It would be like asking a fish to fly!"

"Charlie's been doing something with them for years, Ron said.' Hermione groaned, rubbing her knee. 'Look, Malfoy, don't worry about how they're doing it just be glad they are. Come on, we need to go."

"But how… what spell…"

"_Malfoy_!' Hermione grabbed his face in her hands and made him look at her. For a split second she marveled at the fact that she had never been this physically close to him, and that when you peeled away the arrogance and the steely, mocking expressions he always wore, he actually looked normal. It was a testament to how much he had changed over the past year that he did not pull away from her, just stared at her. 'I have to find Harry. And you have to find Tonks, yes?"

Draco blinked and took her hands away from his face by her wrists. "Potter. Yes. Potter is useless without you. Come on."

------------

It was all Harry could do to keep up with Ron; he had longer legs and could travel further distances with less effort. And although Harry himself was a normally very fast person, Ron's determination to find Hermione seemed to like adrenaline in his veins, urging him to go even faster.

"RON LOOK…"

Ron didn't even hear Harry yell, as the cloaked figure that had been running toward him barely managed to raise his wand with a guttural scream before Ron swung his arm and punched him hard in the face, then struck the hilt of Gryffindor's sword into the back of his head.

Harry looked at the unconscious figure as they rushed passed and finished lamely, '…out."

It was like Moses standing at the Red Sea, the hundreds of people seemed to part as Harry and Ron darted through them. Harry didn't really know where they were going. He was trying to let his feet guide him; he was trying to shut down walls in his mind he'd put so much time and effort into putting up so he could _feel_ where it was he had to be; where He was. That was the main goal here after all – to find Voldemort. Then all of this could be over.

It was hard though, considering Ron was clearly leading at the moment. Harry had already lost Ginny and Hermione and was still yet to even spot his mother; he didn't want to be separated from Ron as well. He was torn between the need to be with someone, and the need to be alone to find Voldemort.

Ron stopped suddenly, grabbing Harry's shirt and pulling him aside as a Mad-eye Moody and three Death Eaters suddenly tumbled into their path. Harry watched in amazement as Moody took them all on without muttering so much as one word, barely raising a shield, parrying each blow the Death Eater's took.

"What are you two doing standing there staring at me?' he barked, his blue-eye swiveling around. 'Get going, Potter! Now! _Difindo_!"

Harry grabbed Ron's arm. "Come on!"

Then continued to run, more and more people blocking their way, at the same time Order Members and regular wizards and witches who had no doubt heard about the fight and had, thankfully, decided they would join in, trying desperately to clear the way for Harry, as if sensing what he was trying to do. He wished he could have stopped to help, or to at least say thank you, but to do so would have held him up, making their struggles completely pointless. As selfish as it seemed, Harry had to focus on one thing and one thing alone.

"I still can't see her!' Ron shouted over an ear-splitting roar.

"What?"

"Hermione! Where the bloody hell has she gone?"

"Maybe you should throw up sparks or something, telling her where we are."

"Yeah good idea. She'll really see a tiny burst of red sparks _amongst all this_!' Ron waved a hand around.

Harry whirled around, ready to snarl at him, but something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention at the last second. His brain caught on a split second just in time and, correctly predicting what was about to happen, Harry shoved Ron backward with such force that Ron fell hard on his backside – the green jet of light missed him by centimeters.

Harry raised his wand, ready. "I'll give you one warning – back off."

Bellatrix laughed, rubbing her jaw leisurely with the tip of her wand as she sauntered toward him. "Baby Potter is giving _me_ a warning? What are you going to do to me if I don't, then? Send me into a fit of giggles with a pathetic tickling charm? We both know you haven't got it in you to kill me."

A flash of bright light made Harry blink and he saw Ron on his feet again, sword pointed threateningly toward Bellatrix. "Don't you come any closer or I'll run you through."

She laughed again, this time throwing her head back. "It just keeps on getting better and better!"

"We don't have time for this.' Harry muttered to Ron.

"You run for it.' Ron's eyes narrowed. 'I'll take care of her."

"You think I'm going to just leave you here with her?"

"There's more important things going on here than me!"

Harry looked at him in surprise. He'd almost forgotten… But did he actually believe such a thing?

Bellatrix sighed, examining her nails. "Are you two quite done saying your good-bye's? I haven't tortured anyone in a good long while and… well I have to admit I'm getting a little antsy."

"You're sick. You need serious therapy.' snapped Ron. His grip on Gryffindor's sword was so tight his knuckled were white. 'Anyone ever told you that?"

"Several."

Harry pointed his wand more directly. "Tell me where I can find your boss and this won't have to end badly."

"Oh, I'm afraid you'll find that it will.' She grinned. 'Now stand still, so I can present both your heads on a pike to my glorious master."

Bellatrix raised her wand, a manic gleam flashing in her eyes. Ron gripped the hilt of his sword even tighter, Harry tensed, waiting for the inevitable curse…

"_Avada Kedaoooff_!"

Bellatrix fell to the ground and landed heavily on her side with a grunt. Harry and Ron only watched the impact before looking up at the person who had pushed her.

Neville smiled at them through blood-stained teeth, a gash over his left eye with blood pouring through it and his hair wet as if he'd fallen into the lake. Despite his haggard appearance, he was positively beaming, his wand pointed directly at Bellatrix.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that.' He breathed.

Harry and Ron just stared at him, amazed.

Neville jerked his head. "I saw Him near the forest. You'd better hurry."

"You go anywhere near him Potter and I will rip your heart out of your chest with my bare hands!" screamed Bellatrix.

She scrambled to her feet and Neville stood ready. "Go, Harry!"

Although loathed to leave, responsibility tugged at his senses and Harry grabbed Ron and left.

"We shouldn't leave him with her.' Ron yelled over the Dragon's ear-splitting roars, running along beside Harry.

"We don't have time to be…whoa!"

Harry and Ron stopped again as a blonde boy fell at their feet. He looked up at them and half-grunted, half smiled with a quick, two finger salute.

"Harry! Ron!"

"Justin!"

Justin Finch-Fletchly jumped to his feet just as Terry Boot and Parvati Patil stumbled over, throwing curses at two hooded figures.

"I wish I could say I'm glad you could make it…' Harry started.

Terry fired a spell and shoved Justin back toward the action. "Don't be a prat! Just go! We've got it!"

"But you…" Ron started.

"Go!" shouted Parvati.

Weaving around them, Ron and Harry did just that. Harry could see the roof of trees that represented the Forest to his left, but every time he tried to squeeze his way through something would get in the way. A Giant would stomp between them, only to be lifted off its feet and into the air by one of the massive Dragons that were flying around. A couple of Centaurs that had joined the fight would trample past, bow and arrow raised and ready to fire. Wizards and Witches dueling each other would fall or stumble by, and every now and then they would shout, 'Go for it, Harry!' or 'We believe in you, Potter!' or 'Duck you stupid twit!'.

Harry finally saw an opening in the mass of people that would take him to the Forest, when he felt it; that cold, overwhelming fist in his chest that seemed to grip his very soul and turn his blood to ice. He saw Ron hitch and bend over double out of the corner of his eye, as though he'd been punched in the gut.

"I don't…' he gasped, looking around in alarm, 'I don't know if I can… can take them right n-now."

"Yes you can. Come on, stand up… that's it…"

It was enough of a struggle to stand on his own, let alone help Ron up, but he still did it and the two of them had their wands out ready. It wasn't hard to tell which direction they were coming from: the screams of horror and people running and sudden appearance of Patronuses were enough of a give-away.

"Look at them the bastards." Ron growled, pointing. 'Dementors weaken them then the bloody Death Eaters sneak in a curse them while they're down! Merlin's beard, if Hermione's in there…"

"She'll be fine, don't worry. It'll take more than a Dementor and a few…'

That's when Harry's scar ignited.

He screamed; the mixture of despair from the Dementors and piercing fire in his forehead almost too much to bear. He was on his knees before he knew what happened, and Ron was down beside him an instant later. Images swirled in his head and foreign emotions ran through him. It was the most bizarre feeling, to feel pain and despair on one end, but at the same time amusement and triumph on the other. Although it was just flashes, images out of order, he knew what was going on because one face kept showing up, clear as day, as if he were looking at her himself.

"Harry? Mate, talk to me! What's he showing you?"

"We have to move. Now!"

"Move? You can barely talk!"

"Give me your hand."

"What?"

"_Just do it_!"

Ron dropped his wand and his sword and, after prying one of Harry's hands away from his forehead, clutched it firmly in his own. Harry focused on the feeling of Ron's skin, sweaty and hot and physical evidence of his presence, and the pain began to ebb. When it seeped away to the point where the world had stopped spinning, Harry clumsily shoved the sword back into Ron's hand, pulled Ron to his feet and dragged him back through the crowd.

He just hoped he wasn't too late.

-------------

There was something deeply satisfying about watching utter chaos from the sidelines.

It reminded him of his days at the orphanage. When he would hide all of Ester Williams tiny little porcelain horses she was so terribly fond of all over the building and watch her hysterically and inconsolably spend hours on end looking for them, or when he would whisper rumors into every child's ear, gossiping lies like 'Did you know Steven said this about you?' and 'Rose thinks you do such and such' or 'Joseph told me this' until it got to the point where everyone would hate each other and, more often than not, start an all-out fight in the living room, and he would simply sit by the window and watch, fascinated. Violence was interesting; so uninhibited and raw and honest.

During his time here as a student he'd spent hours reading about the last great wizard battle; the legendary confrontation between Grindewald and Dumbledore. It was probably one of his favorite books of all time. It went into such exquisite detail about every aspect of that afternoon, so intricate that if he closed his eyes he could still visualize himself standing there, watching Dumbledore and Grindewald duel as if it were right in front of him. The scene around him now seemed just as good, if not better – in this scene, there was no Dumbledore. He had made sure of that.

Decades from now people would be reading about this war, of this he was certain. Years in the future, some young boy with dreams too large for everyone else he knew to realize fully appreciate would be sitting in the back of the Library, a book cradled in his lap and his eyes wide with possibilities as he read about the story of Voldemort, the most powerful Dark Lord in history, and how he managed to bring the world to his knees, make it a better place and take out the two antagonists who stood in his way – Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter.

"Livingston."

As the stout, blonde witch was running past she stopped and looked at Voldemort, instantly dropping to her knees. Voldemort resisted the urge to roll his eyes; the new ones always seemed to have difficulty standing.

"My Lord, I was just on my way to see about the blood traitor Tonks family…"

"Admirable, I'm sure, but I see that you're coming from the castle and I was wondering if you had seen any sign of Harry Potter?"

"Word is he was seen over by the lake, master."

Voldemort clenched his jaw, looking around the masses again. That didn't seem right. The last flash he'd been able to grab from his mind before he'd closed himself off (something he was becoming annoyingly astute at) was near the castle.

"Should I go investigate, my Lord?"

He nodded, rubbing his wand against the palm of his left hand. "Yes, Livingston, that would be most helpful. Take Avery and whoever else you can with you… you'll find it also beneficial to take a Giant with you if you can manage to disengage them from the Dragons, they'll assist in shielding you from the spells of the Aurors up in the towers… and scour the castle for Harry Potter. I want to know of his whereabouts."

"Yes, master. Right away, Mas-…"

That was as far as she got, for in that moment she was knocked viciously to the ground by a massive, horizontal tree trunk. The impact was nothing, like batting away a fly, and the trunk continued sailing toward Voldemort with excessive speed. He took a small step back, raised his wand and wordlessly cast magic. The trunk exploded with a loud CRACK, sending splinters and bark and branches and dust in every which direction.

And it was only a split second after this had happened that he felt someone grab the front of his robes and the familiar tip of a wand stick into his throat.

He looked at her, momentarily speechless. It was if her emotions were so powerful her face was incapable of picking just one to express. Her green eyes blazed into his, unwavering and unafraid. Her fingernails dug into his robes where the clutched him. She was so close he could feel her breath on his face.

He smiled.

"No, stay where you are.' He held a hand up. His servants around him, who had begun to rush to his aid, stopped in their tracks. 'There is no need. Mrs. Potter won't be staying long."

Lily grinned. "Did you see what I did there? With the tree?"

"I did see."

"Pretty nifty, huh?"

"Ingenious."

"_Master_!"

"I said remain where you are!' Voldemort snapped. His eyes never left Lily's. He still hadn't moved; his arms (and wand) remained slack by his side.

Lily leant in closer. Their noses (had he actually still had one) were almost touching. Voldemort couldn't remember the last time someone had been in such close proximity to him. It was… interesting.

He smiled at her again. "Lily Potter. What unusual circumstances have brought us to this point. Seems only yesterday…"

"No no no, we're not doing the nostalgic talk.'

"Oh, come now, surely we must. Its not every day I get to reacquaint myself with someone I killed."

"Keep talking and I let you find out first hand.' She snarled.

Voldemort didn't move. It was a very, _very_ rare thing for his skin to crawl like it was now. Not out of fear, but anger and frustration. How could so much go wrong in such a small amount of time? Didn't anyone stay dead anymore? Was Dumbledore going to show up next? He suppressed the old feeling, the urge he never seemed to be able to shake from his school days, to look over his shoulder.

"I tell you what, wasn't easy getting here."

"Oh no?"

"I nearly got trampled by one of your giant buddies. Not to mention the advance guard you've assembled."

"How unfortunate."

Lily squared her jaw. It was the only movement she'd made since grabbing him. "Anyone would think you were avoiding us."

Voldemort smiled. "One must take precautions."

"So it seems. My, how the authors will rejoice when decades from now they get to write of how Voldemort, the Dark Lord, bravely hid from a boy fifty years his junior."

His smile faded instantly; a similar gesture appeared on her own face, only far more smug.

"I hide from no-one."

"Oh no? Cause this, to me, looks an awful lot like hiding. All that's missing is someone with their eyes closed counting to one hundred."

"You have a lot of back talk for someone in your position."

"_My_ position?' she laughed dangerously. The tip of her wand dug even harder into his neck. 'Two words. That's all it would take. Two words and I could end all of this right now."

Voldemort tilted his chin upwards. "Then why haven't you? I'm completely at your mercy. Why don't you say those two little words and finish it once and for all?"

"I'll tell you why.' His tone was icy, and as he leant in Lily recoiled, her eyes widening slightly. 'You're so terrified you can hardly see straight. Because underneath all that anger, and hate, and righteous bravery you're still the scared little girl I killed sixteen years ago who is both too stupid and stubborn to just _move out of the way_. You couldn't stop me then and you can't stop me now. I'm going to kill him – your son. I'm going to bring him to his knees and torture him with such rage that he'll beg for me to end his life…'

"Stop it!"

"… and there's not a thing you can do about it."

"I could do it right now."

"Do it then."

In that moment something small dug into Lily's ribs. She knew what it was without looking. She didn't flinch, just sneered. The corner of Voldemort's mouth curled slightly upward.

She shook him angrily. "You killed my husband. You tried to kill my son. You've destroyed my entire _life_. You've made my son's life a living hell for the past sixteen years God damn you and you seriously think that I wouldn't… _couldn't_… kill you right here right now?"

"I think if you were so determined you would have done so already.'

Her face screwed up in rage. She was so angry and hurt Voldemort could practically feel it emanating from her skin in waves. Her eyes were watery as she breathed heavily through her nose. Her wand dug further into his neck. She said nothing, just glared with a venomous stare and he could only imagine what she was thinking. Her anguish was exquisite. He couldn't help but shiver from excitement, imagining the way she would crumble when he killed her son in front of her eyes.

"Do you wish for some sort of an apology?"

"You're not capable."

"I'm sorry.'

He had said it with such sincerity Lily almost let go of him completely, out of shock. His face was expressionless for such a long moment, without meaning to, she almost began to believe him.

And then he smirked. "I'm sorry I cracked your husbands skull open before yours. Such a mistake in hindsight. Had I killed you first, it certainly would have made destroying your son, and my life, much easier. Ah ah ah…' he tsk'd, grabbing her wrists firmly as she thrashed against him. 'What kind of manners do you call these?"

"I'll kill you… you evil, disgusting bastard…"

"My my,' he chuckled, digging his fingernails into her skin. She only grunted in pain, trying to wriggle free of his grip. The tip of his wand dug a tiny bit further into her ribs. 'You know, if I recall correctly, you said something similar to me the last time we met, did you not?"

"I believe my exact words were 'Get bent', but it has been sixteen years after all – one's mind does tend to become somewhat fuzzy."

"But it hasn't been so long for you, has it? It would have been only moments, yes? Years gone by in the blink of an eye.' he considered her again, feeling anger crawl under his skin. 'How did you do this? How are you here? Tell me."

Lily smiled. "Jealous?"

Voldemort sneered. It was all the answer she needed.

"I hope you figured it out.' He snarled. 'You'll need such information if you ever wish to see your son again. Although, by the time I'm finished with him there may not be anything left."

"If you even touch him…"

"No no, let me guess. You'll do this: _Avada Keda_-…"

BANG!

Voldemort stumbled backwards from the force of the spell that had appeared between them. His grip on her was lost and he looked around, not surprised to find her gone.

"My Lord!' his nearest follower rushed forward. 'Should we go after her?"

He wiped his hands on his robes, making a mental note to burn them later. He considered his Death Eaters, trying to compose himself. They were watching him eagerly, waiting for orders. He didn't even know half of their faces.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Assemble everyone. Recall the giants. Summon the Dementors. I've had enough of this procrastination. We're ending this – now."

----------

"She's a bloody idiot!"

"You can't say that sort of thing about your own mother."

"The hell I can't! Who does that? Who willingly seeks that psycho out?"

"Gee, I don't know… maybe you?"

Harry skidded to a stop on the hill and cast a glance at Ron. "That's different."

Despite the situation, Ron laughed. "You're a berk. Why he hell _else_ would she go see Him? I'm gonna take a stab in the dark and say the same reason we're looking for him right now."

"Is this your idea of helping?"

"I hate it when you spurt out all this hypocritical bollocks, is all. Who cares why she's there; let's just concentrate on getting her back."

"Why the hell do you think I ran over here like a…"

What he'd run over there like, Ron never got to find out. They both saw it at once. It was like a wave pulling back into the ocean; in the same instant the Death Eaters all apparated out in one collective, ear-splitting crack. The Giants ran away from the Dragons, making the ground shake with their stampede. The Dementors drifted away silently – Dementors never drifted away from victims, silently or yodeling.

Ron frowned. "They're _withdrawing_."

Harry felt no relief as he watched. The sudden silence was almost too much to bear. They remanding people were looking around, confused for a long moment before they seemed to realize what was going on. They too seemed to gather together, the 'safety in numbers' mentality obviously silently shared by everyone.

"Ron! Harry!"

Hermione was limping up the hill toward them. Ron was over to her in two quick strides. He lifted her off her feet in a bone-crushing hug; she wrapped her good leg around the back of his knee and gripped him so tightly it must have hurt.

At the same time Harry's heart swelled to see her alive, his scar stabbed with a blinding pain.

"Are you okay?"

She didn't miss a trick.

Harry laughed. She'd untangled herself from Ron and was over to him in a flash. She grabbed his arm and held his hand, looking terrible yet concerned as if she'd completely forgotten about her own injuries which, if he knew her, she probably had.

"Just my scar."

"Did you see what happened? They're retreating!"

Harry looked back down where she was pointing. His scar burned again as he watched movement in the gathering by the trees; one figure was making its way through the masses, heading for the front. He couldn't' see his mother amongst them. Had she been captured? Had she escaped? Was she…?

He squeezed his eyes shut as his head exploded with pain. "To hell with this shite."

He squeezed Hermione's hand tightly, linking their fingers together. He grabbed Ron's arm, gripping him tightly. He glared down at the Forest, focusing on the feel of their skin, their presence, and pushed the pain out of his mind. It was like two bulldozers driving against one another.

"They're not retreating.' Harry growled as the pain slowly ebbed. 'They're assembling. This is it."

"_This_ is it?' snapped Ron. 'What the hell have we been doing for the past hour then? Practicing?'

"Should we do the same?" Hermione whispered.

Her question was answered on its own. Harry watched, unable to say anything as the mass of people, centaurs, house elves and dragons all seemed to drift toward him. His hand still in Hermione's, he ran down the hill to meet them, Ron close behind.

Remus broke free of the crowd to meet them. He was dirty and wounded, but alive which was all that mattered. "Thank Merlin you're alright! I didn't even know if you were here! And you just left the house without saying anything and Ginny was in a right state and then we got called here…"

"Rambling!" laughed Harry.

"Right. Sorry. Not at all the time or the place."

"Have you seen Mum anywhere?"

Remus opened his mouth to speak, when…

"HARRY POTTER!"

There was a collective shriek of surprise and terror as a shrill voice filled the sky. The voice boomed so loud it made many people clap their hands over their ears. Like everyone else Ron and Hermione looked at Harry in alarm. Harry said nothing.

"IS THIS WHAT IT COMES TO, HARRY POTTER? HIDING BEHIND THOSE WHO GLADLY FOLLOW YOU SO YOU WONT HAVE TO FACE ME?"

"Ruddy stinking snake-faced…' Harry could hear Ron muttering in his ear the same time he felt his hand close around his shoulder.

Harry turned to Hermione. She looked terrified. "It's okay."

"_How is it okay_?"

"WE HAVEN'T COME ALL THIS WAY FOR IT TO END LIKE THIS, HARRY! COME OUT INTO THE OPEN WHERE I CAN SEE YOU! OR ARE YOU AFRAID?"

He squeezed her hand and let her go.

He turned to Ron. He was frowning down at him. "Don't look so grumpy, yeah? Relax."

"Harry, what the hell are you on about?"

"COME OUT, COME OUT, WHEREVER YOU ARE!"

Harry gave Ron a playful punch in the arm. Ron looked appalled.

"If you see Ginny, tell her… tell her I…' Harry stopped as he rubbed his wand between his fingers. He looked up to see everyone still looking at him, waiting, looking scared and anxious and determined and fierce and brave all at once. He smiled. 'Don't worry – she knows."

And then he was running.

Everyone leapt out of the way. He could hear people calling his name, shouting at him, begging him to stop, but the wind in his ears drowned it out. He couldn't stop. Adrenaline was pumping through him, driving him forward. His heart was racing with excitement and fear and determination. The crowd was massive, larger than he'd expected, filled with people he'd never met. He could see flashes of their expressions and it was almost overwhelming enough to make him stop, turn and run in the opposite direction. But he didn't. He kept his eyes forward as he finally broke free of the crowd and ran out into the open field that lay between him and the Forest entrance.

Of course Voldemort was already standing there.

It was hard to believe it had been only over a few hours since Harry had last saw him. Their encounter in London seemed like years ago in a galaxy far away. It was an impressive sight; hundreds of Death Eaters, Giants, Goblins, Dementors stood behind him. There was an ominous glow in the Forest behind him, casting sinister looking shadows out toward them. It was almost exactly how Harry had always imagined it would be.

Voldemort looked satisfied. He was rolling his wand between his thumb and forefinger.

Harry waved. "Hi there."

"I've been looking for you."

"I would never have guessed."

He scowled, his red eyes narrowed. Harry was surprised by the fact that he wasn't scared. He wasn't anything.

"You have something that belongs to me.' He hissed

"Wrong. I have _several_ things that belong to you."

Harry reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out the locket. Voldemort went rigid.

"Well, I _did_… before I destroyed them, that is. Oh, and by the way, bloody good job with Hufflepuff's cup – that was a bugger to get. Malfoy can vouch for that.' With every word Voldemort was becoming visibly more and more furious. Harry was having too much fun to stop. It wasn't often he had anything over him to make him react this way. 'You remember Malfoy, right? Blonde hair, kinda skinny, failed you miserably; but I reckon you were expecting that, weren't you? Smart guy like yourself. Bet you didn't figure into your plans that he'd end up working for us. He's the one who lead me to one of your precious Horcruxes…"

Behind him, a tree burst into flames. Voldemort was looking at Harry with such rage it was surprising that Harry himself had not been the one to spontaneously combust.

"Don't fool yourself into thinking that you're so clever in discovering all this, Potter, when we both know you had nothing to do with it. It was all Dumbledore's doing."

"Yeah, that's right. It was all Dumbledore's doing.' Harry grinned. And in the hiss only Voldemort would understand, Harry whispered, '_And doesn't that just bug the shit out of you?_"

Voldemort's wand came down like a whip. The grass at Harry's feet burst into flame and he only just managed to leap out of the way. It was like running through a minefield; every where Harry stepped the ground beneath him would explode in a ball of fire. Beside the raw instinct not to have his feet blown off, Harry could think of only one thing to do.

CRACK.

Voldemort was visibly shocked. Harry had apparated right in front of him and grabbed him by the front of his robes. Around them still no-one had moved. It was eerily silent. Harry's face was expressionless, despite the pain he was feeling from such close proximity.

"You haven't destroyed them all.'

"No."

Voldemort smiled. "Then how do you expect that all this,' he gestured at their surroundings, 'will end in your favor? Even if you did kill me, a very unlikely outcome, you know it won't be the end. I will rise again."

"I won't be around to help you like last time."

"I'm counting on it."

"You're awfully cocky for someone in your position."

Voldemort sneered. "You sound like your mother."

Harry smiled. "Thank you. No-one's ever said that to me before."

"Wipe that grin off your face. Don't you understand that I'm going to kill you?"

"Its all business with you, isn't it? We never just talk anymore."

Harry's head exploded in pain as Voldemort grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head backward, exposing his neck. He half grunted, half laughed as the tip of Voldemort's wand pocked him uncomfortably in the hollow of his throat.

Voldemort leant in close. When he spoke it was in the soft, bone chilling whisper of Parseltongue. "_I'm almost tempted to let you go, just so I can take her and kill her right in front of you – again. The fool she is; she's so willing to lay her life down for you, I don't imagine I'd even have to capture her to do it_."

"You keep away from her.' snarled Harry.

"What about your friends? The young Weasley boy? The Mudblood you love so much? Or perhaps the pretty little girl who you dream about so often…"

"You won't go near them."

"Oh really? Going to stop me, are you?"

"Yeah.' Harry shoved Voldemort away from him slightly, freeing himself from his grip. 'I _am_ going to stop you."

"You know, you really should have just let yourself get killed when you had the chance.' His high-pitched hiss sent shivers down Harry's spine. 'I'll be honest with you… I've never met a more slippery opponent in my entire life. You've escaped me more times that anyone, but it doesn't make you powerful, or special, or The Chosen One. No, Harry; at the end of the day you're nothing but a boy, a thorn in my side, and I'm going to kill you like I should have done all those years ago. It's not a question, it's a certainty… and all you can do is decide where."

"HARRY!"

It shouldn't have distracted him, but Harry's heart leapt hearing her voice for what seemed like the first time in years. He turned to the left and saw her as she broke free of the crowd, her red hair messy and her clothes dirty just like everyone else.

She stopped as she saw him looking at her and lowered her wand. Even from the distance Harry could see her green eyes were filled with tears; emotions she couldn't verbalize. She just stood there, looking at him imploringly to come back, to turn away and run – run back to her. But he couldn't. He couldn't do anything but stare at her.

He suddenly remembered something she'd said to him not long ago. Her voice ran in his ears as if they were having that very conversation now with their identical set of eyes.

_"If you talk to Dad again, even just for a second... what would you say?" _

_"I'd tell him that I cherished the time we spent together, and I never expected anything from him. Even if I only saw him for a few moments it made me happy. And I'd tell him that I love him; that I'll always love him, and no matter what, I know he tried his best to help us."_

_"You could say all that in a second?" _

_"I wouldn't have to. He'd know just from the way I'd smile at him."_

He held her gaze… and smiled.

As if reading his mind, Lily's eyes widened in horror. "Harry, no!"

He didn't answer. In a flash he'd stepped forward, grabbed Voldemort again by the arm and with a loud CRACK, both of them vanished.

There was a long, confused pause, so silent they could hear crickets chirping… and then all hell broke loose.

The two divided sides rushed toward each other again. Lights flashed across the sky and spells and hexes went flying. Dragon's roared and launched into flight. Giants thumped forward, swinging their clubs every which way. Centaurs galloped right into the fray. Wizards and witched filled up the voids in-between, screaming war cries.

Lily frantically pushed her way through them like a salmon fighting upstream. She was panicking. She was scared. She had to find someone… anyone…

She almost tripped over them. The two of them were crouched on the ground, screaming at each other.

"Where is it?" cried Ron.

"I had it right here!" snapped Hermione, searching her satchel. 'I put it in between the vials…"

"Hurry up!"

"I'm trying!"

"What are you looking for?" Lily demanded.

Her question was answered as Hermione produced an old piece of parchment from her bag. She smoothed it out on the ground. Ron had his wand pointed at it instantly.

"Did Kingsley set up those wards?" asked Hermione.

"He didn't get the chance but Moody did it. Is that…?"

"_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_."

At Ron's hasty command, lines snaked around the parchment, filling out into the map of Hogwarts Castle.

Lily wanted to rip the paper from Hermione's grip and search it herself. She leant in and looked at it, their heads colliding together painfully. "Is he there? Do you see him?"

"I don't see him. Turn it over!' snapped Ron.

"I haven't finished this side yet!"

"Well hold it up so we can look at both sides at once!"

Hermione did, almost thrusting it into Ron's face. "He has to be here. Those wards prevent anyone from apparating out of the grounds, and Harry wouldn't have told us to put them up for no reason."

Lily squinted, skimming over the hundreds of tiny dots moving around frantically on the map. "I can't see him."

"Doesn't mean is not there.' Said Ron. 'He could be on the grounds, in the middle of the lake…"

Hermione's eyes widened and she folded the map up.

"What are you doing?" snarled Ron, trying to take it off her.

"I know where he is.'

"What? Where?" demanded Lily.

Hermione said nothing, just leapt to her feet and began running.

Ron was on his feet a second later. "Hermione, wait!"

She didn't seem to hear them as she ducked and weaved through the crowd towards the castle. Ron and Lily were on her heels, shoving people aside, dodging jinxes, leaping over bodies…

Lily tripped over robes and fell hard to the ground with a grunt. Winded, she rolled over onto her side and looked behind her to see what had caused her to stumble. It was Moody's wooden leg. She clapped a hand over her mouth, dry-reaching, and got hurriedly to her feet. Looking around frantically she tried to get sight of bushy or red hair heading toward the castle… but she couldn't see them.

"Hermione!" she shouted, pushing her way through the crowd. 'Ron!"

It was pointless. They were gone.

------

Harry rolled over onto his stomach on the hard stone floor with a groan. His vision was blurred, and it was then he realized his glasses were missing. He fumbled around for them for only a moment before he felt them and slipped them back onto his nose as he pushed himself up off the floor.

He arched his back, stretching, and laughed. "I've never done that before. Can't half tell, huh?"

Meters away, Voldemort was also gingerly picking himself up off the ground. He straightened up slowly and glared at Harry for a moment before looking around. "What… how…?' he stopped and shot a venomous look back at Harry. 'What are we doing here?"

Harry shrugged, looking around the Chamber of Secrets, still as desolate as he remembered. "You told me to choose where. Seemed only fitting."

"You really are insane."

"Hey, be glad I didn't splinch you… although it would have made life a bit easier, to be completely honest…"

"Listen to you.' Voldemort's tone was laced with amazement. 'You're so calm."

"Flapping my hands and running around in circles while screaming hysterically really isn't my thing."

"What do you have to be calm about? I'm going to kill you, Potter."

"Thanks for the heads up."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. Harry watched him look around the Chamber again; no doubt he was thinking about the last time he'd been down there, over fifty years ago. Harry sometimes felt like it had been that long for him too. The thing that took up both their attention for a moment was the massive Basilisk corpse, still lying where Harry had slain it, the pool of blood around its head dried up.

His boots clicked softly against the stone floor as he walked over to it, his eyes still on Harry. "This was my first pet."

"And here I was thinking you were more a fluffy bunny type of guy."

"Snakes were my first real servants.' A whimsical expression crossed over his pace face as he stroked the scales of the giant snake tenderly. 'It was easily to find pythons and carpet snakes in the fields, but when I read about the magnificent creature that was the Basilisk, I knew I had to have one. It wasn't easy, but oh so worth it. I raised it up from an egg, spent hours with it, talking to it, lavishing in its company as it did in mine…' he turned his eyes to Harry. They were cold. 'And you killed it."

Harry gestured toward the snake. "He started it."

Voldemort looked as though he was going to snap, but the moment passed and he suddenly found something amusing. "You really are extraordinary, aren't you? A mere boy of twelve, killing a Basilisk would have been completely unheard of a decade ago."

"Well I wasn't too keen on becoming snake chowder, and seen as your sixteen year old self was so determined to make it so it didn't really leave me with a whole lot of options.' Harry smiled. 'Haven't changed much in half a century, have you?"

"My first Horcrux. First made, first destroyed. How ironic. No doubt that incident is what hinted Dumbledore to their existence.' He paused and smiled bitterly to himself. 'Poor Lucius. He tries so hard to please me, and yet always seems to be doing the opposite."

"Maybe you should lower your standards."

Voldemort looked over at him again. Harry wondered if those red eyes would ever not be eerie.

"And so it began, yes? Dumbledore's quest to end the tyranny and reign he knew I would have over this world. I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised; a great mind like his of course would have worked it all out. He always was the nosy type, butting his ridiculous good intentions in where they weren't wanted."

"He was trying to help you."

"Help me?' Voldemort wheezed out a laugh. 'I didn't need his help. I'm more powerful than he ever hoped to be. I have seen magic at its most basic; at its core. I have traveled the world and learnt spells they dare not write down on paper. I have seen death, danced with it, stood on the very line that separates existence with oblivion and still returned unscathed."

"But look what you had to do to do it." Harry felt revolted just thinking about it. 'You're an idiot. No, more than that – you're a coward. Dumbledore wasn't afraid to die like you are."

"I am afraid of nothing!' snapped Voldemort.

"Oh, no, you're right. Normal, every day _sane_ people split their souls apart all the time. And I bet you thought you were so clever hiding them all over creation like you did. The Pensieve in the Museum, now that was clever, but honestly…

"You still haven't found them all, have you." It wasn't a question. Voldemort grinned with satisfaction when Harry said nothing, just raised his wand at the ready. 'Do you even know what they are?"

"Hermione didn't agree with me at first, but I knew, and I suspect Nagini's being taken care of right about now."

"She is protected."

"Yeah, at your manor. Oh, don't look so surprised,' Harry added at Voldemort's expression. 'Where the hell else would you have been hiding all this time? You didn't even notice me there the other day, did you? I was under my Dad's Invisibility Cloak."

Voldemort's hand balled into a fist. It was the only display of emotion he gave. "You were so close and yet you didn't come in and say hello? What bad manners."

"Point is I know where you're keeping her. I know that you've protected her from any wizards who try and go near her… but I found a loophole. I met someone who was only too willing to help me. Her name is Linda. You remember her? She's about fifteen feet long, lovely pale scales, lives in that pit of snakes you've got in the sewers under Little Hangleton…' Harry smiled and he knew Voldemort knew what he was talking about. 'She was only too happy to help, what with me being her _Masssster_ and all."

"You _didn't_…"

"Oh I did." He chuckled. "Brought some of her friends along too. They were pretty excited to be out of that pit, I can tell you! What do you reckon Nagini's odds are against ten serpents and an Anaconda? I personally wouldn't wager a whole lot if I were you…"

BANG!

The floor at Harry's feet exploded. He only just managed to leap out of the way.

"Why must you destroy everything I have?' snarled Voldemort.

Harry looked at him angrily. "Sucks, doesn't it?'

"Why can't you just die?"

"You first."

Three spells came flying toward him again. Harry blocked the first, dodged the second and only just managed to apparate three meters to the left to avoid the third.

"You won't destroy the last.' Snapped Voldemort. "Even if you did manage to discover where it is…"

"I know where it is. I know _who_ it is."

Voldemort stilled for a moment, as if this information had caught him off guard which, Harry mused, it probably had. Had he really not expected Harry to figure it out? Then again, this was Voldemort we were talking about, with an ego the size of Great Britain…

"And you think you can destroy it, do you? I can't see you ending a life for the sake of destroying me."

"You don't know me as well as you think you do."

"Oh I don't know,' he smirked, 'you're not as unpredictable as you think yourself to be."

Harry's scar burned again and it was so harsh it made his head snap back. Voldemort took advantage of Harry's lapse of concentration and fired a spell; it hit Harry square in the chest, and he almost wished for the pain in his scar over it.

He hit the ground hard, the Cruciatus Curse flaying him from the inside out. He cried out as his skin burned, every nerve ending feeling as though they were being individually shot with thousands of volts of electricity. It was pain beyond anything anyone should ever feel and Harry was completely at its mercy, unable to do anything but scream and burn.

It seemed like an eternity, but it was over ten seconds later. Harry didn't move; he lay there, gasping for breath as stared up at the ceiling. His scar still ached as if someone had drawn the lightning bolt shape with a white hot knife over and over again. He was drenched in sweat and his muscles ached, and he had a strange, sudden impulse to hug Lily.

Voldemort entered his line of vision and smiled down at him. "Now, wasn't that fun?"

"Tons.'

"Again?"

"I'd really rather not."

He didn't get his wand up in time. It hit him again and he screamed louder than before, his cries echoing around the massive chamber so loud he could hear it over the sound of blood pumping in his ears.

And then it stopped again.

"Come now, Harry, you're not even trying.' Voldemort sounded offended.

Harry shrugged. The simple movement was agony.

Voldemort frowned and, with strength that surprised Harry, gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him to his feet. "Your mother was a lot more aggressive than you."

"I got you here. I got you away from them. That's all that matters."

"I could leave you here and return to them."

"Well yeah, you _could_, of course you could. But it's not them you want, is it? You'd have to be pretty daft to just leave me here, especially after all the trouble you've gone to after all this time to get me in your dastardly hands."

"I should kill you now."

"Go on then."

Voldemort frowned and shook Harry by the front of his shirt. Harry muscles still ached too much for him to resist. "What's _wrong_ with you, Potter? Do you have a death wish?"

Harry smiled. "You're not going to win. Knowing this puts me in a cheery mood."

"How are you going to defeat me? You're not even fighting back!"

"I know, weird huh?"

Voldemort sneered and shoved Harry to the ground again. Harry grunted from the impact but didn't get up further than propping himself up on his elbows. Voldemort looked furious. Clearly this was not how he'd been expecting things to go. Harry was glad.

He pointed his wand at Harry. It was steady. "How odd that is should end this way after so many stimulating encounters. I almost regret it. Where shall I find a new adversary so close to my own level?"

"Try the local sewer."

Voldemort dropped to his knees and grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt again. He roughly pulled him up into a sitting position, he was so close their noses (if he'd had one) we're almost touching. Harry wanted to comment that perhaps he could do with a breath mint but figured now probably wasn't the time.

"I've dreamed of his moment for so long it seems almost disappointing that its now finally here."

"You need a hobby."

He sniffed, amused. "Your father had the same tone, you know. When he stood at the bottom of your staircase, trying to keep me at bay, he had so many witty, sarcastic retorts it was a wonder he didn't choke on them. But talk didn't help him, nor will it help you. You're just as weak as him, and you'll die just as easily."

"Sounds nice."

Harry was surprised to find that, for once, he wasn't joking.

"I almost regret doing this.' whispered Voldemort. He ran his thumb across Harry's scar. Harry closed his mouth, muffling his cries. 'It is quite temping to keep you alive, just so you can watch this world burn; watch as I scourge our world of Mudbloods and Squibs and Half-breeds and all that is unworthy… all that you call family."

"If you keep me alive you won't get the chance."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because I have something you don't have. Something you can never have."

Voldemort leant in closer and pressed his forehead against Harry's. It hurt, like embers running across his forehead, but he ignored it. "And what's that?"

A flash of movement over Voldemort's shoulder caught Harry's eye. He smiled.

"_Friends_."

BANG.

Voldemort went flying in a whirl of black robes. He landed roughly next to the dead Basilisk with a grunt and only barely managed to get to his knees before another explosion, bigger than the last, landed at his feet, sending him to the ground again.

Harry watched, feeling a shiver as he watched Hermione advancing on Voldemort, throwing vial after vial like some sort of machine. Her hair was wild and her expression was hard, and Harry's heart swelled just seeing her.

He was so caught up in her, in fact, that it took him a long moment to realize he was being pulled to his feet by two big hands.

"For Merlin's sake, you twerp,' laughed Ron in his ear, dusting him off, 'you didn't have to just lie there and _let_ him kick the shite out of you."

Harry gripped his arm tightly in gratitude. "I was stalling."

"Running off like that! You're a stupid, fricking ponce!' snapped Ron. 'We couldn't find you on the map and if Hermione hadn't figured out where'd you'd gone… why didn't you tell us what you were doing?"

"Cause I knew you'd try and stop me. I knew you'd find me in the end anyway."

BANG!

Hermione wasn't leaving any room for Voldemort to get up. She was hitting him with her potions, vial after vial, pulling them from her satchel with quick succession.

"How?"

Harry smiled. "Just a hunch."

Hermione was out of vials. Voldemort was on his knees and with a snarl raised his wand. At the same time Harry summoned Hermione toward him like he'd thrown an invisibly lasso around her middle and yanked her backwards, Ron ran forward with his sword raised, ready to strike. He swung it downward but it missed Voldemort by inches, hitting the stone floor with a high-pitched clink.

"Ron, look out!" Hermione cried.

Voldemort cracked his wand like a whip and the ground beneath Ron's feet rumbled like a giant mole was burrowing underneath. Ron lost his footing and fell to the ground, but as Voldemort raised his wand ready to strike again Harry and Hermione fired spells at him. They hit him in the side and sent him to the ground. Ron got to his feet and scrambled back over to them.

"You're an idiot.' Hermione snarled in Harry's ear. "A stupid, stubborn, thick headed…"

"Live now, lecture later." snapped Harry.

There was a soft noise, and it only took a second for Harry to realize that it was coming from Voldemort. He was laughing.

"Potter, you are so deliciously predictable.' He chuckled as he pulled himself to his feet. 'And now not only have you signed your death sentence, but your friends as well. You should have told them to stay away."

"I did.' Harry smiled at Ron and Hermione on either side of him. 'They don't listen."

"You'll not lay a hand on him, you hear?' snarled Ron.

"You'll have to get through us.' snapped Hermione.

Voldemort smiled. "As you wish."

Something like an invisible force field appeared from nowhere and knocked both Ron and Hermione hard to the ground. Harry felt himself pulled forward and was in front of Voldemort instantly. He raised his wand, ready to apparate out, when Voldemort created a small space between them and snarled, "_Avada_…"

In the split second between words, Harry could think of only one spell.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

"… _Kedavra_!"

The spells connected, just like they had in the graveyard three years ago. Harry's wand vibrated dangerously in his hand but he didn't let go. He was ready for it this time.

Voldemort cried out angrily. He tried to break the connection but with every movement he made Harry moved with him, desperate to keep them together just that little bit longer. The golden web appeared around them, shutting Ron and Hermione out. Harry could hear them shouting, begging, but he tried to ignore them. He had to concentrate.

The tiny little beam of light was struggling for a wand to inhabit. Harry kept pushing it back out, while Voldemort kept trying to will it back the other way. Harry didn't really care if it connected with the other wand this time; he just needed to keep the connection going. He tried to keep it in the middle but it was proving to be quite difficult.

"This wont save you, Potter!" screamed Voldemort. "Not like last time!"

"I'm not doing it for me!" he retorted.

With great effort, Harry took a step forward. The pressure of the connected spells was resisting, and it was like trying to run through water, but Harry took one step after the other, slowly but surely, and was soon only one meter from Voldemort, their wands closer than ever. Harry's hand was vibrating so much it hurt.

"I'm going to give you one chance!' he shouted. 'Surrender! Tell your Death Eaters and the Dementors and whoever else you've got out there to stand down and come with us quietly!"

Voldemort laughed. "You're a fool!"

"It doesn't have to end this way!"

"I'm sorry, Harry Potter… but it does!"

Harry's gut twisted. Of course it did. How else could it end? He was resolved for this, he'd been expecting it, but the last shred of hope he'd been carrying around underneath it all had just died. He looked through the webbing. He could see the silhouettes of Hermione and Ron moving around, no doubt arguing with each other, trying to find a way in. He felt his chest warm just thinking about them.

Voldemort cried out in pain.

Harry took the opportunity. The connection of their wands broke, and Harry stepped forward to grab Voldemort by the scruff of his neck. The webbing wouldn't hold long, he had only moments…

"You can feel it, can't you? How much I care for them. I'm betting you've never felt anything like it in your life… and I want it to be the last thing you do feel."

Voldemort stuck his wand into Harry's ribs. "Once I finish you they'll be next."

Harry smiled. "You can try."

The webbing faded. Harry felt it go down. He could see Hermione and Ron in his peripheral vision standing meters away. Harry knew why they hesitated; any spell they fired could hit Harry. It was what Harry had counted on also.

"It's been fun.' said Harry.

"I know why you're doing this. And would you like to know one more thing before you die?"

"What's that?"

Voldemort leant in close and whispered, "The other Horcrux… isn't you."

Harry stiffened.

"_Avada Kedavra_."

---

"HARRY!"

Hermione screamed as Harry fell to the floor, limp. Voldemort dropped to his knees and howled with pain, his hands clutching his head as if it were being torn apart from the inside out. She felt Ron's whole body go rigid beside her, and then without a word he ran forward.

"No, Ron, don't!"

She reached out to grab him, to stop him, but her fingers caught nothing but air. Ron was on the other side of the chamber in a flash and without a second pause and stood over Voldemort's screaming form, raised Gryffindor's sword and brought it down with a forceful swing.

There was silence.

Hermione rushed forward, hardly able to see where she was going through the tears in her eyes. She sobbed loudly as she dropped to her knees beside Harry and cradled him in her arms.

"Harry? Harry, wake up. It's okay. It's over now. It's finished. He's…'

She looked over at Ron. He was standing with his back to her, staring down at the headless form of the most evil wizard to have walked the planet in half a century, the blood stained sword swung limp from his hand.

Hermione tapped Harry's face again. "Come on, that's enough now. You fooled him. Wake up, Harry. _Wake up!_"

_Clang_.

The sword fell from Ron's hand and he dropped to his knees opposite her. The front of his shirt was stained with blood and his face was expressionless as he looked at Harry.

Hermione looked at him pleadingly. "What's he doing? Why won't he wake up?"

Ron frowned. His whole body tensed as he looked down at his best friend.

"You talk to him." She whispered. 'He'll listen to you."

"I can't."

"Don't be absurd."

"He can't hear me, Hermione."

"Yes he can! Don't say that!"

Ron clenched his jaw, his expression cracking. He shook his head.

Hermione sobbed again and shook Harry. "Harry, wake up! _Wake up_! Don't do this. Not now. Not after everything… Harry, _please_… WAKE UP!"

"Stop! Hermione, stop!"

Ron grabbed Hermione by the shoulder with one hand and clenched Harry's shirt in the other. "He's…"

"_Don't_.' she snarled. Her expression was desperate. 'Don't say it."

She ran a finger along Harry's face softly. He didn't move. He didn't smile. He didn't open his eyes and cry 'psych!'. He was lifeless, limp. Peaceful.

Ron stroked her hair. "I'm sorry."

Tears were streaming down her face as she cried out in anguish. She pressed her forehead against Harry's and hugged him close to her chest, rocking him back and forth as she sobbed. Ron let his own tears fall quietly as he embraced both of them.

* * *

A/N – You know, it's been a year and this still hasn't come out like I hoped it would. It took me months to even open it up again and finish it, but I'm glad it's done now. Hopefully you can all forgive me for such a long absence, and hopefully you enjoy it.

Please review!


	49. Chapter 48

"Seize him!"

Draco rolled his eyes as two burly Aurors charged forward and almost tackled him to the ground.

"No!"

Out of nowhere from a sea of people, Tonks rushed forward. At least he assumed it was Tonks. It was a rough looking man in his late thirties who looked as if he'd been dragged around by his ankles behind a carriage for two days, but there was a large pink streak in his brown hair – not to mention the fact that he looked appalled, upset and defensive, emotions only Tonks would feel for him.

"No, 'please', 'don't'…' Draco drawled as his wrists were magically bound together in front of him. 'Rather pointless to be saying now."

"Released him this instant!' Tonks barked, hitting the Auror on Draco's left on the arm.

He shared a look with his partner and chuckled. "Tonks, don't be daft. You don't have any authority over us, especially about this."

Draco smirked smugly.

"Who ordered his arrest?"

"That would be me."

Draco stiffened as Rufus Scrimgeour broke free of the crowd, his assistant and Heads of Office and other no doubt equally important people all flanking him. Indeed, everyone's posture seemed to straighten up at the announcement of his presence. Draco had only ever met Scrimgeour once in his life, and it had not been an experience he was keen to repeat. The man had such hard, piercing eyes that seemed to strip you bare; a talent he no doubt acquired from his years as an Auror. His voice was strong and his tone crisp and tight, as if he were always impatient.

Standing here now, in the aftermath of a war that dwindled to nothing but a simmer but seemed to refuse to die completely, he looked truly imposing, and Draco wished that someone else, _anyone_ else, had ordered his arrest.

Scrimgeour was looking at Draco with an air of superiority. Draco clenched his jaw, wanting to punch him in the stomach.

Tonks, who had whirled around instantly at the sound of his voice, paused only a moment before screwing her face up as if she were in pain. Her features melted and in no time at all she was back to her old self.

"Minister, please…"

Scrimgeour waved a hand. "Quiet."

With great effort, Tonks closed her mouth.

"So, this is the infamous Draco Malfoy." Scrimgeour sauntered over to Draco, despite the fact he was leaning on his cane.

Draco's eyebrows rose. "Infamous? Excellent. I see my reputation has spread like wildfire."

Scrimgeour jabbed a finger into Draco's chest. "More like a bad rash. I'd watch my mouth if I were you, watch the way you speak to your superiors; you're already in more than enough trouble to keep you busy for two lifetimes."

"Minister…"

"I said _quiet_, Tonks."

"But if you'll just let me explain…"

"Banks, Smythe,' Scrimgeour continued, addressing the two wizards on either side of Draco, 'please see to it that our guest receives the best accommodation Azkaban can offer."

"Minister no, you can't!" cried Tonks.

Scrimgeour turned and glared at her and opened his mouth to snap something which, judging by the expression on his face would most likely have been rather unpleasant, when Banks, the Auror on Draco's right, cleared his throat.

"Uh, begging your pardon, sir… but I'm not sure Azkaban is really the place for him right now."

"Indeed, sir,' piped up a diminutive witch from Scrimgeour's posse. 'The repairs to the foundations are not yet completed after the break-out and the wards and house elves are already at breaking point…"

"I won't try to escape.' Offered Draco. 'Take me to Tahiti. I promise I'll stay within ten feet of your goons at all times. What do you say, tiny?' he turned to Banks and smiled. 'Fancy a trip to the ocean?"

Banks whacked him up the back of his head.

"Very well,' bristled Scrimgeour. 'Take him to the Ministry. Lock him up in the holding cells."

"But sir, the cells are at capacity…"

"Then he'll have to bunk with someone else! Merlin's beard, must I do all the thinking around here?"

"Minister, please…" Tonks rushed forward as Draco began to be dragged away.

Scrimgeour looked down at her as if she were a bug under his boot. "Is it something genetic with you, Miss Tonks?"

Draco snorted.

Tonks drew herself up determinedly. "Minister, you don't understand. Draco's been working for us for the past year. He's been on our side. He's assisted in the war effort, with the Order of the Phoenix; he's given us classified information despite enormous personal risk which put us at a great advantage over the Death Eaters…"

"Has Mr. Malfoy also worked out a way to bring the dead back to life?"

"I was very close." remarked Draco.

"Because unless he has, and unless Albus Dumbledore is now walking around these grounds somewhere and I have yet to run into him, I'm afraid that this boy is still responsible for his death, and therefore will be held accountable and… _dealt with_ appropriately."

"But sir…"

"But what, Miss Tonks?' snapped Scrimgeour. Tonks flinched, her sense of propriety and rank coming back. 'This boy is responsible for the death of a man who is quite without argument the greatest wizard of our time, not to mention a influential individual in the Ministry of Magic and Headmaster of this school. He has associated himself with murderous criminals, fugitives who barely a year ago he helped gain access into this school and I'm sure I don't need to remind you of the consequences of _that_ decision."

The tips of Tonks's hair went red. Draco could only smile.

Scrimgeour rushed forward and grabbed Draco by the front of his shirt. "You think this is _funny_, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Well I did, until you shook me like that, and now I'm not so sure…"

"Draco, shut up!" hissed Tonks.

The Minister gave Draco a long, hard stare, looking very much like he wanted to turn Draco into a Flubberworm. Draco had been exposed to this expression too much over the past ten months to care, but re-arranged his expression all the same.

"I'll take great pleasure in locking you up for the rest of your natural life, Mr. Malfoy."

"He has to have a trial!' Tonks burst out.

Scrimgeour's left eye twitched and he took a slow, deliberate breath as he turned back to the tiny Auror behind him. Draco had a very strong impression that no-one had ever argued so much with this man in his entire life.

"Thank you, Miss Tonks, for that reminder of how our laws work. I completely forgot my position in the Ministry for a second there."

Draco pursed his lips. "She does that. Puts people in their place."

"Shut up." snapped Scrimgeour, shaking Draco again. "I am certainly not Bartemius Crouch. I don't fling people into jail cells without going through the appropriate procedure… although when it comes to Mr. Malfoy here I have to admit it is very tempting. Get him out of my sight. Azkaban, Auror Headquarters, a shack in the middle of the Sahara, I don't care – just get rid of him."

"Minister, if you would just let me…"

"Tonks, you will be silent or you will be court-martialed for insubordination!"

Tonks opened and closed her mouth a few times. Draco felt his skin crawl. The emotion he was feeling while watching Tonks so powerless and inarticulate in front of someone was unfamiliar.

Scrimgeour gave Tonks one last look before nodding at Draco. "I wish I could say it was nice meeting you."

Draco's lip curled in contempt.

Two beefy sets of fingers dug into his arm as he began to be pulled away, but he didn't get very far before Tonks was in front of him again, trying to get his escorts to stop.

"Just wait a second! Minister, please…"

Scrimgeour turned away. "Tonks, if you wish to make a case for this boy you will do so in the courtroom. You're wasting your time here."

"But this is unfair!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Nymphadora…"

"You have no idea what Draco's been through in this past year. What he's done for us."

"No, I don't have any idea,' sighed Scrimgeour, clearly not at all interested. 'And I'm sure I don't care."

"Nymphadora, please…"

"You can't just cart him off and lock him up! He's been locked up enough!"

"Tonks, that's enough."

"But if you would just _listen_…"

"Nymphadora!"

Draco's voice was stern. Insistent. Enough to make Tonks whirl around on him. She looked outraged, frustrated and upset.

He sighed and gave her a frown. "Stop. You're embarrassing me."

Tonks's eyebrows rose slightly.

Scrimgeour waved a hand at Draco. "She's embarrassing him."

She looked at a complete loss of what to say. "Draco…"

"Just be quiet, all right?' he muttered, looking awkward. It was humiliating that this had to happen with so many people around. Conversations such as these had only ever been in private, behind locked doors where no-one but she could hear. 'They're going to lock you up with me if you keep blabbering on like an idiot."

"You shouldn't be locked up at all."

Draco smiled. "Yes I should. You know that as much as I do. That was the agreement, remember? I pay my debt to Potter, I do whatever he asked, and when it was all over I go to Azkaban. My time has run out, cousin. I'm off to the big house, the slammer, pick and adjective, any adjective…"

Tonks hit him in the arm. Banks and Smythe looked uncomfortable on either side of him, not sure of how to react. Both Tonks and Draco ignored them.

"Things were different then. You were different. You're not that person anymore."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you, dammit, no matter how much you like to pretend that this completely retarded friendship we have isn't real. Like it or not I happen to care about what happens to you, and I don't want to you going to Azkaban."

"You think I want to go?' he asked, amazed. 'Azkaban is the last place I want to be. It's dank and musty and I'd much rather go to Tahiti, but apparently my jailers are a bunch of party poopers."

Banks cleared his throat meaningfully.

Draco pursed his lips and, looking reluctant, dipped his head closer to his cousin. "This is the last thing I want, believe me. I don't want to spend the rest of my life locked in a jail cell unable to see my family again.' There was something about the way he said 'my family' that made Tonks blink. 'But my only other option is to run and hide, and I can't do that again. This option isn't preferable, but it's… easy, and you're making it all unnecessarily difficult by trying to defend me. So just shut up. Please."

Tonks stared up at him with narrowed eyes. Draco said nothing more, just looked down at her with the most placid, open expression he'd ever worn.

She turned to the Minister. "Sir, I request permission to accompany Draco to the Ministry."

"Denied."

"May I have permission to accompany Banks and Smythe?"

"Denied."

"Then can I just say good-bye to him for God's sake?"

Tonks voice had cracked for the first time. She looked almost desperate. Draco was visibly shocked by her outburst, unable to think of anything to say.

Scrimgeour looked down his nose at her, breathing heavily through his nose. He looked at Draco, then back down at her, each of them receiving the same, piercing gaze. Draco could guess what was going through his mind; impatience at such a trivial thing taking up his time when there were other more important affairs to be dealing with, and confusion for the obvious affection Tonks was feeling for Draco – an Auror caring about a supposed Death Eater? Draco thought he could almost see the roots of the Minister's hair go just a tiny bit whiter at simply the thought of such a thing.

He pursed his lips and held up two fingers. Draco blinked, thinking he was being flipped the bird, but Scrimgeour growled, "Two minutes."

"I'm going to represent you." She said, whirling back around to face her cousin.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Great. Excellent. You know what would be great, though? If you didn't do that."

"Can you think of anyone else who will stick up for you?"

He pursed his lips. "Is there anything I can say that would change your mind?"

Tonks smiled and shook her head.

"Figures. You stubborn bint."

She laughed, and without warning launched herself forward and wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him fiercely.

Draco grunted at the impact and flinched in surprise. She'd never been this affectionate with him. Their physical intimacy never went beyond a touch on the shoulder or a playful punch on the arm. They'd certainly never hugged each other, let alone like this, as if she were afraid to let him go. His hands were still bound behind him, each of his arms gripped in the tight grip of the two Auror's flanking (who were looking quite uncomfortable with what they were baring witness to) so he couldn't return the gesture. He wasn't entirely he would have even if he could. But almost without meaning to, he rested his chin gently on the top of her head, but only for a moment, before he wriggled and cleared his throat.

"Nymphadora, please. You're making me look less rugged and manly in front of my handsome jailers."

She pulled away and glared at him playfully. "Don't call me Nymphadora."

Draco smirked and turned to Smythe. "Onward."

Tonks could do nothing as she watched him get frog marched away. She wanted to call out for him, hit the Minister over the head until he saw reason, grab Draco and run off into the forest with him… but she did nothing but stare. He didn't even look over his shoulder, acknowledge her or give some sort of signal that he didn't want to leave just as much as she wanted him to; he just kept walking, apparently chatting casually to his two escorts.

A rough, damp hand slid into hers and squeezed. "You knew this would happen."

"Doesn't make it any easier to watch."

Remus smiled weakly at her. His other arm was wrapped around the crotch he was leaning against. "After all these months I still don't understand you and him."

Tonks shrugged and rubbed Remus's shoulder. "I can't help it. I have this involuntary empathy for Draco, just because, you know, he's such a weirdo. Must be genetic."

"You have a thing for head cases.' smiled Remus.

She opened her mouth to say something, when a loud, booming voice cut over the top of her.

"UM… EXCUSE ME ALL… IF, ER… GINNY, I KNOW YOU'RE HERE… IF YOU'RE NOT BUSY, DO YOU THINK YOU COULD JUST… SORTA MAKE YOUR WAY DOWN TO THE LAKE? PLEASE? MUCH APPRECIATED."

Tonks frowned up at Remus. "Who was that?"

"He was using the PA system, whoever he was.' said Remus, looking around in concern.

"He sounded like he was in trouble. _Is_ Ginny around?"

------

Colin grunted as his arm fell. He let the golden horn drop carelessly from his hand and stared up at the sky. Every muscle in his body ached. He supposed it was a good thing he was already laying on the ground; he wouldn't have been able to stand up anyway.

On the other hand, the gaping hole in his stomach probably _wasn't_ a good thing.

Blood was pouring out, and Colin gasped for breath as he closed his fingers over the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. The pain was overwhelming. He didn't know where his wand was. He thanked God he'd had the sense to hold onto the horn; without a wand with which to shoot sparks up into the air to ask for help, it had been his only salvation. The simple act of unhooking it from his belt and speaking into it had been excruciating.

He blinked tears out of his eyes; he didn't want Ginny to show up and see him crying like a daft idiot.

He screwed his eyes shut, trying to keep calm. The sounds of fighting had calmed, the shouting had decreased, the roars of enormous magical creatures were all but silenced, and the grounds were almost serene. If it weren't for the blinding pain in his abdomen, Colin thought he could almost relax.

He wondered how mad Dennis was going to be when he got home.

If he got home.

Colin coughed and groaned, pain roaring through his body again. He felt so tired, drained of energy and magic and all he wanted to was sleep…

"Colin? _Colin_?"

The sound of pounding footsteps drew closer and closer. He knew her voice, his name familiar even in her tone of panic. He raised a hand up into the air, hoping she would see even in the dark. Judging by her gasp, she did.

She dropped down on her knees beside him and looked down at him, her expression one of horror underneath the grime and dried blood.

Colin smiled. "Long time no see."

Ginny half-laughed, half-sobbed. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Apparently someone thought I'd look quite handsome with a large gaping chasm in my side. Don't you agree?"

Ginny looked at a complete loss at what to do. "Colin… you've lost a lot of blood."

"That explains this woosy feeling."

"I need to get someone. I don't know how to help you."

"Wait!" With surprising speed, Colin grabbed Ginny's wrist as she made to get up. He pulled her back down, wincing at the pain such a simple action caused . "Don't leave me. Please."

"Colin, we're all the way over at the lake. No-one's going to come down here, and you need a mediwizard…"

Ginny stopped as she heard someone running toward them. Colin's entire body tensed. He thought the fight was over. Were they going to be attacked? He looked to Ginny, expecting to see her with her wand out, but she was watching the new persons approach with a mixture of relief and anxiety on her face.

"Ginny, I told you not to run off! Your mother is going to kill…' the woman skidded to a halt, spraying grass everywhere as she took in the scene before her. 'Oh."

"Can you go get someone? Please?'

The new person dropped down beside Colin, opposite Ginny, and he finally got to have a look at her. He couldn't see much of her features, being that it was dark and also because long, red hair was curtaining half her face as she examined him. What he could see of her expression was serious; professional.

"Bloody hell,' she sighed with a chuckle, giving him a small smile. 'That's one beautiful wound you've got there."

Colin coughed and smiled. "I'm quite proud of it."

"What's your name?"

"Colin."

"Nice to meet you, Colin. I'm Lily. Open your mouth for me, won't you love? Drink this."

Colin frowned at the tiny vial she'd pulled from her pocket as it hovered above his lips. "What is it?"

"It'll make you feel better."

The old 'don't accept sweets from strangers' lesson his father had drilled into his head as a child chose that moment to reappear. He looked at Ginny, who nodded encouragingly. Satisfied, and with effort and assistance from Ginny, he managed to sit up the tiniest of fractions and take a small sip of the liquid. It tasted disgusting, and Colin couldn't help gagging, but as it went down it seemed to seep through his entire body like a cool breeze, numbing his nerves, relaxing his muscles, and the pain, although still prominent, lessened dramatically.

He sighed and lay back in the grass. "Thank you."

Lily smiled and tossed the vial away. "Courtesy of Hermione. I'll pass on the message."

"How do you know…_OW_!"

"Oops,' laughed Lily, wincing. 'Sorry darling."

"Oops?' Ginny spluttered. 'You can't say 'oops' while you're healing someone!"

"Not to sound ungrateful,' Colin groaned, feeling his stomach muscles stitching back together, 'but are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Lily smiled, tucking hair behind her ear. Colin blinked as he took in her eyes. The only person he'd seen with eyes that green was…

"I know enough to stop you bleeding to death,' she said. 'It'll buy you time for the real experts to make you right as rain. I could give it a whack, but I'm sure you'd much rather trained professionals working on your internal organs, wouldn't you?"

Colin nodded. Lily laughed.

Ginny smoothed out his hair from his face as Lily continued to work her spells. He smiled up at her, enjoying the feeling of her fingernails running along his scalp.

"I'm sorry for leaving without saying goodbye,' she said softly. 'It's just that Mum showed up out of the blue and…"

"It's fine,' Colin took her hand in his and squeezed it. 'Don't even worry about it."

"How come you're still here? I thought McGonagall send everyone underage home."

Colin groaned with another surge of pain, but he was smiling. "You think I'd miss out on something like this?"

Ginny laughed and shook her head.

"Hold still.' Lily remarked.

"I am, I am.' He felt embarrassed. It was like being scolded by his own mother.

"Has the bleeding stopped?' asked Ginny.

Lily nodded. "He's going to need blood replenishing potion though, and lots of it. I'm just going to clean the wound now, okay? Then we'll try getting you up."

Colin looked between Lily and Ginny. "How do you both know each other then?"

Lily and Ginny exchanged a look.

"Long story." Ginny said after a long pause. 'I'll explain it to you sometime."

"Throw sparks up.' Lily said. There was a sudden urgency to her tone. 'Blue ones."

Ginny did as she asked. "Are you okay?"

Lily didn't answer her. Colin saw her frown; her expression turned from concern to anger to worry and fear all in one continuous movement.

Apparently Ginny seemed to know what was going on, because after a moment she said, 'I'm sure he's fine."

"Nobody's seen either of them.' Lily said shortly. 'It's been half an hour…"

"What are you guys talking about?' Colin asked.

Lily and Ginny exchanged another look. Colin was becoming rather annoyed by these silent glances. Who was this woman? And how did Ginny know her well enough to have these sorts of almost telepathic conversations with? And why had Ginny never mentioned someone who obviously was very close to her to him before?

Not that it was really any of his business, but still.

Feeling he had a pretty good idea of who they were talking about, Colin shifted uncomfortably and decided to try a different route. "So did we win? Or am I bleeding all over the sodding place for nothing?"

Lily looked back down at Colin's stomach and said nothing. Ginny continued to stare at her for a short moment after she'd looked away, before she smiled back down at him.

"We won."

Colin blew out air through his lips. "That's a relief. How? Did you see? Did Harry lop his head off or what?"

Ginny pursed her lips and brushed hair out of Colin's eyes. "We don't know. Harry and V-Voldemort just disappeared and then five minutes later all the Death Eaters collapse to the ground, clutching their arms in pain. After that most of them just threw their wands down at surrendered – we think they're the ones that were under Imperious or some other curse. Others refused to go out without a fight but by then Aurors from France and Germany and other countries had arrived to help out. The Giants and Dementors are still causing a big ruckus and the Centaurs are still having a bit of trouble with some of the Goblin clans, but otherwise…' she trailed off with a shrug.

"So where's Harry?"

"He hasn't come back yet.' Lily's voice was hard and full of emotion.

Colin stared at her, caught in a thought process that didn't make sense. He looked at her… _really_ looked at her… but it couldn't be… it didn't make sense…

"Like I said,' Ginny said, cutting through the moment, 'I'm sure he's fine."

Lily's jaw clenched tightly, and when she noticed Colin watching her she smiled hastily. "Right then, Mr. Creevey, lets' get you up. I think you've spent enough time in the mud, don't you?"

"On the bright side,' Ginny grunted as she and Lily both helped Colin slowly into a sitting position, 'I'm sure it's doing wonders for your skin. Oh, sorry!' she added quickly as Colin laughed, then winced.

"Maybe you could save the comedy for another time,' Lily said, 'like when he doesn't have a massive hole in his guts. Colin, I'm not so sure about this anymore. I'll just conjure a stretcher…"

"No, I can walk.'

Ginny pursed her lips. "Colin, no-one's going to think any less of you if you don't…"

"I said I can walk.' He repeated insistently.

Lily exhaled, her nostrils flaring. "Let me guess, you're a Gryffindor, aren't you?"

Inch by inch they slowly and carefully got Colin to his feet. He was leaning heavily against each of them, his arm slung around both their necks. The world was spinning and Colin felt as though he was going to be sick, but he took slow deep breaths and tried to focus all his energy into walking. It was easier than he thought, but he still took each step with trepidation.

Eventually they made their way away from the lake and up the hill, and Colin finally got to have a good look at the castle and its grounds.

It was easily one of the most horrific sights he had ever seen. He'd watched movies and documentaries about wars in history, and this resembled each one of them, yet none all at the same time. The destruction was the same, the sheer mass of it, but the history books in muggle libraries never showed pictures of bodies of giants lying on the ground, Dementors being backed into crates by dozens of Patronuses, of House Elves hovering injured wizards into various tents.

"Bloody buggering hell,' Colin breathed.

Lily snorted. "That's one way to put it I guess."

"The castle… and the… what about… are those _Dragons_?"

Ginny hitched his arm around her shoulder and giggled. "Come on; let's get you to a Mediwizard."

The nearest tent was also the largest; more a marquee. Lily and Ginny hobbled in, pushing the flaps aside as they tried to balance Colin between them. Inside were dozens benches, each sectioned off with a curtain. They were filled with people, some with two people sharing, with Mediwizards casting charms or wrapping limps or applying ointment or, disturbingly enough in one case, closing eyelids. Despite the situation Lily looked around hopefully despite knowing deep down he wouldn't be there and scolded herself for being so upset when she didn't see him.

As if sensing Lily's thoughts, Ginny took the rest of Colin's weight and guided him to the nearest chair. "Here we go… easy now…' Ginny sat him down gingerly. 'I'll go see if there's a bench free. I'll be right back."

Colin smiled as she brushed his hair out of his eyes. He watched as she walked off then turned back to Lily. She was looking around the tent with a frown, her eyes downcast and sad.

Her eyes.

"Um… Lily?"

For a moment it was like she didn't hear him, but then she blinked and her expression lightened. "Sorry, Colin, are you okay? Do you need something?"

"No, I was just… I mean, I just wanted to ask… but it's not really… I mean, I don't see how you could be…"

"Be what?"

Colin bit his lip as he examined her face more closely. It wasn't just her eyes. It was her nose, the way she tilted her head to the side, how her foot was turned out slightly as she stood there waiting…

Lily's head whipped around as a scream sounded from outside. There was a loud commotion going on, people chattering and crying and running. She stepped forward, squeezed Colin's shoulder, muttered 'Stay here', and made her way outside.

She had her wand in her hand the instant the flaps of the tent closed behind her. There was a crowd gathering around the doors to the castle, a small huddle now but was growing rapidly as people and creatures from all directions rushed forward. Lily arched her neck, trying to see around the mass of bodies. Had another fight broken out inside? If so, why was everyone just standing there?

"Hey,' Ginny appeared beside her. 'I heard all the noise and Colin said you'd left.' She frowned, her gaze falling on the growing crowd. 'What's going on?"

Lily barely heard her. She was already moving forward, a feeling of dread rising in her chest. The crowd was growing, more and more people drawn in by the cries and shrieks emitting from the mass of bodies. The low rumble of conversation was growing louder as Lily approached, now jogging up the hill. Her chest was constricting with growing panic as images began flooding her mind, all of them containing Harry.

She slammed into the crowd with a grunt. At first she muttered 'excuse me' and 'pardon me' as she tried to squeeze through, but then she heard people screaming in terror, people sobbing in anguish, and her panic became almost unbearable.

The elbows came out and Lily shoved her way through; she squeezed her wand in her fist, dozens of spells that would cause this crowd to disperse quick-smart and just let her through rolling through her head when finally she broke free, stumbling forward, tripping over herself, almost falling head over heels.

And then she saw them.

Ron was staggering down the front steps of the castle. Hermione was beside him, the sword of Gryffindor bloody and limp in her hand, her head bowed and her face curtained from view with her hair. The both of them looked terrible, dirty and tired and barely able to walk, but Lily barely saw them, a fuzzy background against the image of what Ron was carrying in his arms.

Harry was completely limp. His left arm was dangling free, swinging mildly with every step Ron took. Even from the distance Lily could see his clothes were torn, could see the blood running down his arm and dripping from his fingers…

"Oh God no…' Lily rushed forward again, tears welling up in her eyes, blurring her vision. 'No please no… Harry… oh God…"

He didn't look up when she took his face in her hands. He didn't open his eyes when she smoothed out his hair and kiss his scar. He didn't giggle when she shook him. He didn't tell her to stop when she beat his chest, commanding him, _begging_ him to not be dead, to be anything but dead. He just lay there, cradled against Ron's chest, looking at peace.

"Don't do this to me!' screamed Lily, her voice hoarse, choked with sobs. She nuzzled the crook of his neck and cried into his shirt, whispering in his ear, 'Wake up. Please Harry, wake up. Please. _Please_."

He couldn't be dead. He _couldn't_ be. Not her son. Not Harry. Lily's body was going numb as she second lingered and he didn't wake up.

"I'm sorry,' said a deep voice above her – Ron. 'I'm so sorry Mrs. Potter."

Lily sobbed again and began to fall sideways when someone caught her. Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her in close to a chest. She didn't care who it was, she hugged them as tightly as she could, her vision blurred with tears as she stared at her son. Hands were stroking her hair softly, a voice was murmuring something softly, but she hardly heard. All she could feel was her body going numb; a sadness settling in her chest so heavy it felt like it would drag her down and never let her up and she couldn't care less.

Around her it was like white noise, another parallel world moving in slow motion and out of focus. People were looking at her in confusion. More familiar people were gathering now; teachers, members of the Order, people with red hair…

She felt exposed, naked and fidgety, but not for her own sake. She knew in the back of her mind the crowd would only grow, the panic would only get worse, the sadness would only deepen the more people found out what had happened.

"Look, I know that this isn't what you want to hear right now, 'said the person holding her she now realized was Remus, 'but we need to move him. I'm not ashamed of him, it's just…"

Lily nodded.

"The more people who see him the worse it will get and the Dementors…"

"I know,' she whispered, barely audible.

With one arm still around her, Remus turned back around. "Ron, look at me."

Ron hadn't moved. His eyes were locked on Harry's face.

"Ron, _look at me_,' Remus repeated insistently. After a long moment, Hermione stepped forward and gripped Ron's arm. He blinked, looked down at her supportive smile, and then looked up at Remus, as if just realizing he and Harry were outside. 'He needs privacy. Think you can carry him a bit further?"

Ron nodded once.

Hermione guided Ron forward, leading the way through the crowd, Lily and Remus trailing behind. People stepped aside respectfully. Lily didn't look at anyone but Harry. She could just see his forehead peeking around Ron's arm, her vision of him blurred through her tears. She could hear Hagrid somewhere, telling people to move aside, his big frame no doubt clearing a path. She was aware of McGonagall rushing around, trying to organize people, all the while her mind repeating the same thing over and over.

_He can't be dead…. He can't be dead… my son is dead… but he can't be… but he is… _

But somewhere to her left an unfamiliar voice caught her attention.

"Ah, and this must be the famous Mr. Pettigrew, I assume?"

Lily looked away from Harry's face, his tousled hair, his lightning bolt scar, the grazes on his cheeks and the bruises under his eyes to see Rufus Scrimgeour a hundred feet away, leaning heavily on his cane with a triumphant expression on his face. In front of him were two Aurors, restraining a man between them.

Something seemed to snap as she looked at Peter. He looked petrified; his hands were bound in front of him, the cuffs a faint blue, pulsating with magic. He was hunched over, his eyes darting around, taking in the people around him and the potential exits between them. His clothes were ragged, his hair was falling out and his skin sagged. There were bags under his beady, watery eyes and he looked fifty seven instead of thirty seven – so much different than the boy she had once known. The boy who had trailed after James like a lost puppy, idolized him, lied for him, stole from him, taken countless detentions for him all in hopes of seeing a flicker of affection cast in his direction in return. So much different than the man they had let into their home, let into their life. Who they had invited around for Sunday dinners and encouraged to ask a certain girl at work out and let babysit their son…

"Wormtail,' she whispered to herself, almost as if testing the word in her mouth.

"What?' asked Remus softly. He followed her line of sight and his body went rigid.

Scrimgeour sauntered up to Wormtail, seemingly enjoying the younger man's anxiety. Wortmtail cowered the closer the Minister got, until he was almost completely doubled over, Scrimgeour standing over him, his posture oozing authority.

"Mr. Pettigrew,' he announced, obviously wanting everyone to hear, 'your reputation precedes you."

Lily stopped walking; her whole body was taught with tension, her muscles tightening and tightening as the shock of seeing him for the first time in nearly twenty years began to wear off. She looked up at Remus again; his expression was a mixture of anger, pity and sorrow as he looked at Wormtail.

"You know,' continued Scrimgeour conversationally, 'I was part of the team who was called to the home of the Potter's all those years ago, summoned from my desk, given a report that Peter Pettigrew had been viciously murdered. '_Blown to smithereens'_ I remember overhearing one of my superiors say. I have to admit, you're looking remarkably well for a man who is well known for being blown apart by his traitorous best friend."

"P-Please…' Wormtail's eyes were wide with alarm, his gaze shifting erratically as he looked for any and every point of escape possible.

Then, as if feeling eyes on him, Wormtail looked over at Lily. His dark, brown eyes locked with her bright green ones for the first time in almost two decades. His reaction was one of complete, unabashed fear. He shrieked and leapt back, almost knocking his two guards over. They held him tight, trying to restrain him, to calm him, but he continued to wriggle and squirm, and Lily was glad of it.

"Lily…' he whimpered.

Lily could see it just for a second, underneath the fear and shock and guilt in his expression, the smallest attempt at apologetic, and it was this that was the final straw. She was running, charging, without her wand but uncaring. Wormtail thrashed against his captors as he watched her approach but the held him tight.

She was so close, mere feet away, when an arm caught her around the middle.

Lily screamed from the back of her throat, tears blurring her vision as she thrashed against the arms holding her, trying to get free, trying with all her might to get over to him, wrap her fingers around his neck and squeeze, to punch him anywhere she could, to curse him four hundred different ways until Sunday, to do something, anything, to make him understand and feel a miniscule amount of the pain he had caused her.

"Damn you, Peter! Look what you've done! You killed my husband! You killed my son! I hate you! I HATE YOU! YOU BETRAYED US!"

Lily watched helplessly, rage burning through her as Wormtail who had collapsed to the ground, sobbing and muttering got dragged away. Her shoulders were aching and her wrists were burning as her captor struggled to keep a hold of her but she didn't care. He was getting away… she had to go after him…

"Lily…' Remus's voice was in her ear. 'Lily stop! _Stop_!"

"Let me go! Remus, go after him!"

"You need to calm down!"

"_NO_!" Lily's voice was hoarse, her face was wet with tears. 'He destroyed my family! _He destroyed my LIFE_!"

Remus brushed hair out of her face and pulled her back against his chest, hugging her tightly. "I know, Lily. I know. And I'm so sorry. But please just stop struggling… I don't want them to have to stun you…"

Everyone around them was looking at her curiously. Whispers were being thrown around and looks or curiosity, panic and surprise were everywhere. The Minister was watching her with a frown on his face. Aurors were watching her cautiously, wands ready in case she got loose. But Remus's wolf strength was too tight and even with all her might she couldn't break it.

"I don't care,' she snarled, glaring at him.

"Yes you do.' He reasoned softly. 'Don't be like this, not now. Not in front of Harry."

Lily's stopped. She gasped out sobs and looked back over at Harry. He was still the same, his eyes still closed.

"I don't want you to miss this,' he whispered, loosening his grip slightly. 'This is too important a moment to waste on Peter. I understand… believe me I do… but please, just calm down. Don't make them stun you. Don't give them a reason to cart you away and miss your last moments with your son."

She looked back at Remus and slowly began to relax.

Remus nodded, sensing her compliance. "That's it. Just stop. Just breathe."

Lily sobbed and sagged, feeling spent and heavy. Remus's arms were still around her and she turned around and collapsed into him, fresh tears soaking his shirt. His hands were stroking her back soothingly and she was whispering words in her ear… but his body suddenly stiffened again, and Lily whirled back around, thinking Wormtail had come back.

It was Scrimgeour. When he spoke, his tone was absent of his assured authority had had possessed moments earlier.

"Mr. Weasley, please take Mr. Potter to that tent there by the lake. Professor McGonagall, Kingsley? You and I have things to discuss. Mr. Lupin, please escort Mr. Weasley and… the others… to the tent."

"Come on,' Remus whispered in her ear.

Lily found a small amount of strength left, gripped Remus's hand as he slipped it in hers and fell into step beside Ron, stroking Harry's hair as Ron led them through the crowd of weeping, confused and concerned people and down the hill.

* * *

"What happened down there?'

Ron stared at his feet, wishing for the first time in his life that he wasn't the centre of attention. He gripped the cool hilt of Gryffindor's sword in his right hand, absentmindedly carving shapes into the grass while holding Hermione's hand in his left, enjoying the feeling of her thumb stroking his wrist, wordlessly conveying a message of support.

He could feel dozens on eyes on the back on his neck. Every member of his family was standing in front of him (thank God) in a semi circle, and his friends and half the Order, all of them watching him and Hermione expectantly.

Dawlish arched an eyebrow, leaning heavily on his cane. "Well?"

"Dawlish, leave them alone,' snapped Mr. Weasley. His arm was slung around his wife's shoulders as she embraced him tightly, her head in the crook of his neck as she wept silently, her gaze raking over each of her children's faces. 'Can't you see they're exhausted? Not to mention they've just lost…"

"Dad,' Bill croaked, 'Don't."

"I don't mean any disrespect. Arthur, you know that. I'm only asking,' Dawlish tried again, more softly this time, 'because I'm leading the recovery team to retrieve… _the_ _body_."

"Well they can go and bloody well find it themselves!' boomed Hagrid.

"Hey! Put me down!"

He grabbed Dawlish by the back of his robes and flung him, not unkindly, a few feet away. Dawlish stumbled, landing awkwardly on his feet and looked back angrily, but closed his mouth around his retort when he saw twenty or so angry faces glaring at him and walked off, his hands raised in surrender.

Ron blinked out of his daze as Ginny knelt down in front of him. Her eyes were red, her cheeks streaked with tears. It was the first time she'd looked at him since he'd walked out of the castle.

"Did you see?' she asked softly. "What happened? How he…" she trailed off, her voice breaking.

Ron opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to answer. Finally he gave up and looked away, nodding once. Ginny bit her lip, walked over to the tent and hovered around the entrance, hugging herself as if physically trying to hold herself together.

"Do you think he'll believe them?' Hermione whispered in his ear.

"Probably not.' Ron looked around at the small conference happening a few feet away.

McGonagall, Remus, Mad-Eye, Kingsley and Tonks were all gathered around Scrimgeour in a tight semi circle, their backs to Ron but their body language clear enough to indicate that the Minister was not making it easy on them.

'Who gives a toss anyway?"

"Don't say that."

Ron looked at her, feeling instantly regretful. "Sorry. It's just… you know…'

Hermione nodded, leant in and gave him a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Poor Harry,' Hagrid blew his nose; the sound was deafening. 'He didn' deserve it. He didn' deserve any o' this. There's ruddy Death Eaters walkin' around right now and Harry's… he's…"

"It's okay, Hagrid,' Charlie reached up, trying to pat him on the back.

"How is it okay?' he sobbed, tears drenching Charlie, causing him to jump back. 'How is anything going to be okay?"

Nobody could answer him.

Ron gripped the hilt tighter and lifted the sword up to examine it. It was still crusted with blood. Ron was surprised the blood was red. He didn't know what colour he had expected it to be. Maybe black? Humans had red blood, and Voldemort hadn't been human.

He wasn't anything anymore.

Ron ran his thumb over the hilt, remembering how it had felt, vibrating in his hand as he had sliced downward; how that had been all he'd felt, and how that was all he felt now – a big, numb, vibrating feeling, like something was crawling under his skin trying to get out.

He looked up at the tent again. "I don't think she's coming out."

Hermione looked around and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "You think we should go make sure she's alright?"

"Of course she's not alright,' muttered Ron, looking back down at the ground.

He felt her squeeze his shoulder. "Ron, I don't…"

He was on his feet suddenly, walking away.

Mrs. Weasley reappeared from the crook of her husband's neck, her eyes red and puffy. "Ron, sweetheart, where are you going?"

"Away."

"You should stay with us."

Ron stopped but didn't turn around. He could feel their eyes on his back, expectant and nervous. He gripped the sword tightly in his hand. What did they expect him to do? Go into a mad rage? He wanted to, but what good would it do him? He didn't have the energy anyway.

He started as he felt a hand on his shoulder and bushy hair entered his peripheral vision.

"I know you want to run,' she whispered, squeezing his arms. 'I want to run too. I want to run and scream and hit someone and crawl into a ball and cry and go to bed for the next ten years and not get out. But we can't leave Harry. He needs us."

Ron fought down the urge to burst into tears.

"I know you want to be alone right now…"

"I don't want to be alone.' He muttered softly. 'But I can't sit here doing nothing, because the longer I sit here the more I think this is all some sort of sick joke, and I can't stay here expecting him to wake up. 'Cause he won't. And I don't…"

"What?"

Ron clenched his jaw and looked back at the tent. He didn't want to tell her that he didn't want to be here when she came out.

Hermione kissed his shoulder. "Alright. If you want to go I'll come with you."

He turned and looked down at her. Her cheeks were streaked with fresh tears but her face was expressionless. "You don't want to stay?"

"I want to stay with you."

Ron could feel she meant it by the way she was holding onto his arm; how much she didn't want to let him out of her sight. But he also knew, even though she would never say so, that she wanted to stay near Harry.

He looked back at the tent.

"Let's stay here."

"Are you sure?"

"If we start walking off people are going to be all over us. Here they'll leave us alone, at least for a while. I don't want people badgering you with questions about what happened."

"Me? I'm not the one that…"

She trailed off, looking at the sword.

Ron handed it to her; he felt disgusted with it all of a sudden. Without a word he took her free hand and led her back to his family, sitting her back down on the log she'd been occupying.

He flopped down beside her and fixed his gaze on the entrance of the tent. Part of him felt guity for sitting there doing nothing when there was so much work to be done, so much tidying up to do… but the other half of him thought the rest of the world could sod off. Hadn't he done enough already? Wasn't he entitled to sit and watch over his best friend one last time?

That's when he heard it – the commotion coming from up the hill. He looked over his shoulder and frowned, adrenaline kicking in again already. What was it _now_?

-------------

Lily had always been jealous of how long Harry's eyelashes were.

She had to spend a fortune on mascara to get hers to look even half as luscious as them. She smiled and ran her finger down the bridge of his nose, over the tiny metal crest of his glasses, all the way down to his upper lip; there was the tiniest amount of stubble sitting there. Beautiful green eyes accentuated by long, dark eyelashes. She felt sad she wouldn't see them again.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting with him. The noises and commotion from outside had died down significantly; things were finally calming down, but she found it hard to take notice of it for any length of time.

He was lying on a cot in front of her, looking as if he were simply asleep, recovering after a terrible ordeal, taking the time he needed and deserved to simply rest and be. Lily liked to imagine that this were so; that any time now his eyes would flutter open, those eyelashes batting together sleepily, and he would look at her and smile and exhale happily and whisper that he had done it and they were free.

But then she placed her hand over his heart and felt nothing, and reality brought her crashing back down to earth.

She ran her fingers through his hair and smiled. "You know, when I would make our breakfast in the morning I'd lay you on the bench beside me – back when I was going through that stage where I didn't want you out of my sight even for one second and James thought I'd gone completely bonkers when I got to the point I made him stand in front of the loo, holding you so I could still see you – and you'd watch me spread butter and marmalade over the toast and think it was the most hilarious thing in the entire world. And you had the cutest cackle, always so infectious that it took me forever to make James his breakfast."

Harry said nothing.

Lily sat back in her chair and blinked tears from her eyes. She linked her fingers through his and flinched – his hand was cold.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this,' she snapped at the ceiling. 'Do you hear me? _It_ _wasn't_ _supposed_ _to_ _be_ _like_ _this_! What was the point of sending me back down here if it wasn't to protect him? What kind of sick sense of humor do you have? Why did you let me begin to build this life with him just to rip it apart? Why did you let this happen?"

Lily was on her feet by now. She could feel anger coursing through her veins, frustration bubbling under her skin, and nowhere to direct it but upward. She wanted to curse with her mouth and her wand. She wanted to kick and scream and rant and rage about how none of this was fair. How the divine powers that had allowed her to come back to life had done nothing to stop this.

She looked down at Harry again and slumped back down in her chair. Her anger vanished.

"Why didn't _I_ let this happen?'

Harry didn't answer. No-one answered. She didn't want an answer – she already felt like enough of a failure without someone there to reinforce the fact or, to make it worse, try and convince her otherwise.

Lily threw her wand to the ground in defeat, ran her hands through her hair and rested her elbows on her knees, wondering if this is how parents of terminally ill children felt. She was completely devastated – her heart felt as shredded as it did after discovering James had died back when she first came back – but if she were honest, she wasn't really all that surprised that this had happened. She'd been suspecting it would end like this for months now, despite Remus waving it off as parental paranoia in an attempt to ease her mind.

In fact, now that she thought about it, she'd been expecting it since that night Harry had explained everything about his life, the Horcruxes and the Prophecy to her.

"You're so dramatic,' she mused with a small smile. 'You get that from James. Just like your stubbornness, your selective hearing, your ridiculous hair…"

Lily stopped, her voice catching in her throat. Fresh tears filled her eyes and she put her face in her hands. This couldn't really be happening. How could Harry's luck bring him so far to run out now, just when he needed it most? How was she supposed to continue through life without him there? How was she supposed to handle losing her family twice? How would Ron and Hermione cope without one of the corners of their impenetrable triangle they'd been building for so many years? How was Ginny going to cope, losing the love of her life?

She felt panic rising up in her chest as the train of thought carried her against her will. Harry was her everything. He was the centre of her world. How was she going to carry on without the core of her being?

A distant sound of commotion outside jolted Lily out of her thoughts. She blinked and looked around, trying to keep her mind clear. She kept her eyes on Harry and tried to find something, anything, to keep her composure.

Lily reached out and plucked his glasses off his nose. One of the lenses was cracked.

"We can't have this, now can we?' she mended them with a tap of her wand. She placed them back on his face tenderly and brushed hair from his eyes. 'I broke your Father's glasses once in fourth year. He tried to scare me by leaping out from behind a suit of armor and I punched him in the nose. Blood went everywhere. He was so shocked he ran off. That was the first time I ever actually worried about him – the first time I ever worried that he'd hate me."

"Don't worry,' said a familiar voice behind her, 'he thought it was hilarious."

Lily whirled around and let out a scream, but it was muffled by a cold, metal hand clamped over her mouth and before she could register what was happening she was whirled around, caught in a vice like grip and with a 'pop', the tent and Harry disappeared.

--------

The compression feeling vanished almost instantly and Lily landed roughly on a hard surface. She cried out in pain and rolled over onto her stomach, gasping for air. Whoever had apparated her here clearly wasn't very good at it. Her elbow was throbbing almost as much as her head was.

"Ow,' groaned someone to her right, 'sorry. I haven't done that in a while."

Lily was on her feet instantly, pain forgotten in light of her situation.

Wormtail looked up at her with weary, beady eyes and slowly got to his feet, grimacing the entire time with effort. Lily glared at him, feeling rage burn through her like an electrical current. She didn't know what she wanted to do more; curse him or beat him with her bare hands. She could see the fear in his eyes and it only made her angrier.

He raised his wand cautiously. "D-Don't try anything. Please. I don't want to have to hurt you."

"Oh I'm sure.' She spat.

She reached for her wand… but found nothing. Dread settled over her as she realized she'd left it on the ground back in the tent. She suddenly felt very vulnerable and naked and not even half of sure of herself as she had been before.

Wormtail jiggled his wand softly in his hand, though still aiming it in her direction, as if unsure of what to do next now that he had her where he wanted her.

"Please,' he said again, his tone soft, 'I know I'm the last person you want to talk to right now… or ever, for that matter…"

Lily didn't hear anymore. She spun on her heel and ran, barely taking any notice of her surroundings, just knowing she wanted to be anywhere but here. But she barely made it more than a few feet before the ground at her feet exploded and she went flying.

She landed roughly on her stomach with a grunt and bit her lip, trying to will away the tears that were blurring her vision. She rolled back over onto her back and sat up. Wormtail had moved closer but was still standing at a safe distance, his wand steadier now.

"Don't make me bind you,' His tone was regretful. 'I don't want to hurt you."

"Too late.' She snapped, getting to her feet.

"Stay where you are!' he screamed.

But Lily wasn't in control of her own legs anymore. She didn't care that he had a wand and she didn't. She didn't care that he could kill her where she stood and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. She didn't care about anything but grabbing him. Wormtail fired spells at her feet but never at her, trying to discourage her from coming closer. But Lily simply side stepped the coloured streams of light until she was right in front of him. He had always been shorter than her and he still was, but that didn't stop her from grabbing him by the front of his robes and shaking him as hard as she could.

"Did you see him in the tent?' she snarled, her face inches from his. 'Did you see him lying there? _Did you see what you did to him_?"

"Yes,' Wormtail gasped. 'Yes, I saw him."

He wasn't fighting back and it was only making her angrier. He didn't look remorseful or apologetic or guilty. He just looked calm. How could he be calm? Lily was going to make him feel something even if she had to beat it into him.

"He's there because of you!"

"I know."

"Then what could you possibly have to say to me? Are you going to try and apologize? Are you going to tell me you had no other choice but to turn us in? That is it was all some big misunderstanding?"

"N-No… just let me…"

She slapped him in the face. Her palm was stinging from the force of it but she did it again. And again. She hit his chest, his shoulders, his arms, anywhere she could.

"You killed my son! You killed my husband! You killed me!"

Lily felt hands curl around her wrists – one hot and one cold – pry her hands from his robes and shove her backward so hard she was on the ground again. She let out an angry snarl and made to get up but found herself suddenly unable to move from the waist down. Lily felt frustrated. His magic ability had improved immensely.

"I'm sorry,' Wormtail stood over her, wand still pointed at her. 'I told you I didn't want it to come to this. But I nearly lost my tail trying to get to you and you're going to listen to what I have to say. _DON'T MOVE_!' he screamed as Lily made to move forward again. 'Don't make me… I mean… please. Just stay where you are."

Lily was breathing heavily, her entire body shaking with rage and magic. She could hear explosions around her, like tiny stones being smashed apart as her emotions ran ramped. Wormtail's eyes kept darting around, no doubt watching her raw magic as it destroyed random things around them, but he seemed determined to hold his ground – something she'd very rarely seen him do. A lifetime of associating with Death Eaters would no doubt cause you to harden up.

"What are you waiting for?' she snarled. 'Kill me. Again. You did it before. You must be an expert by now."

Wormtail's wand started to shake. "I don't… I didn't…"

"Didn't what? Spit it out!"

"I didn't bring you here for that."

Lily scoffed. "Oh of course. You just snuck into my tent, kidnapped me and brought me here just to talk? To reminisce about the old days? Where is here anyway?"

He said nothing, just gestured to something over her shoulder. Lily turned as far as her frozen body would allow and saw what he was pointing at. It wasn't hard to identify – it was the only thing in the room.

"Is that…?' Lily's eyebrows rose and she looked around properly for the first time at her surroundings.

It was like some sort of underground amphitheater. Stone steps ran upwards and away from them, so high they disappeared into blackness. They were right in the middle, a pit that was sunken into the ground. Lily already knew where they were. She recognized it from one of Harry's memories – despite his protests that she didn't need to see it, she had made him show her how Sirius had died.

She turned back to Wormtail; he looked resigned. 'We're in the Department of Mysteries. But how? The wards…"

"The Ministry's been taken apart.' He looked upward, and Lily now noticed the occasional boom and crack coming from above them. 'There were nearly two hundred of us at first. The Aurors Department was completely blown out and the Death Eaters moved their way down. The wards around the entire area have been affected. They were going to come down here but I guess they were stopped in time.' He looked around in wonder. 'That or they were too scared to try."

Lily could only imagine the damage that must have been inflicted for the wards of the Ministry to be destroyed, especially for the Department of Mysteries, reputably one of the most difficult places to enter in all of Britain, right up there with Gringotts and Hogwarts. The thought of the Ministry in such a state of disarray made her shiver. Her mind hadn't stretched further than Hogwarts being hit – now it seemed silly to assume the only place do receive any damage would be the school.

She frowned at him. "So why did you bring me _here_?"

"I know all about it,' he nodded over her shoulder. 'The Veil… Sirius… I know everything."

"I wondered why you didn't look surprised to see me,' she admitted. She hadn't really thought about it until now. 'Normally people ask me a million questions or just stare at me and deny what they're seeing, but you…' she frowned. 'How do you know?

"It's so wonderful to see you again,' he whispered, unsure if it were okay to say so. 'When I heard the rumor I couldn't believe it, even though I so desperately wanted to… and here you are."

"_How_?"

Wormtail shrugged, a tiny smile playing on his lips. "Eavesdropping was always my thing."

Lily didn't want to know how he managed to listen in on Voldemort's private discussions. Wormtail had always been good at sneaking around and spying on people.

"And now you think you can do the same thing to me and bring Voldemort back?' She snapped, itching for her wand so she could blast him into a million pieces; wishing she could move at all.

Wormtail flinched and looked downcast, but he didn't avert his eyes like he had earlier. He was nervous and unsure, but there was also a determination about him she'd never seen in him before. She wondered if this is how Sirius had seen him the night she had died.

"No, I… that's not… I wish you'd just _listen_…"

"Give me one good reason why,' she snapped, appalled at what was happening.

"Because I can save Harry."

He blurted it out, loud and fast, as if he'd been dying to say those five words for years. Hope burst like fire in her chest, despite her brain demanding she see reason. Was this all some sort of a sick joke? He looked completely serious.

"You can't save him. He's…' the words died in her mouth.

"So were you,' he reasoned.

Lily flinched despite herself. He was looking at her the same way Remus had when he'd first seen her. Everyone she'd come across of course had looked at her with shock and confusion which was to be expected, and at first Remus had been no different. But the longer he had looked at her the more his expression had changed and molded into awe and longing and recognition and affection and respect and love all complimented with the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She suddenly remembered where she's seen that expression before – it was the way all four of them at looked at her on her wedding day.

"You think I'm going to believe that? After everything you've done, why would _you_ want to save Harry?"

"You mean he didn't…' Wormtail trailed off, looking awkward. 'You don't know anything."

"I know you escaped from the Aurors God knows how, you've kidnap me, you're holding me at wandpoint, half bound my body…"

"I told you I didn't want to do that, but you were going to leave and I couldn't let you. And I'm sorry if I scared you, but I didn't see any other way. Were you going to just come with me if I came and asked you nicely?"

Lily pursed her lips. They both knew the answer.

"And I didn't hurt anyone. Not really.' He looked suddenly bashful. 'The worst they'll have is second degree burns."

She glared at him. He always had been the slipperiest.

"Alright then, come on,' she said throwing her hands up. 'What are you waiting for? Sacrifice me to the Powers that Be."

"What?"

"Avenge the death of your master. Finish what he started seventeen years ago – what you helped him start. We've already lost one Potter today… might as well make it the whole set."

Wormtail looked at her as if she'd gone mad. Lily glared back at him. She didn't care anymore. She didn't care what he wanted from her. She didn't care about what he had to say or why he was doing what he was doing. She was tired and angry and sad and numb and sore and all she wanted to was for it to stop, and the way she saw it there was only one way that was going to happen – Harry alive again, or her dead where she could be with him and James.

He sighed, his nostrils flaring and his silver hand clenching. "Don't you think I've done enough of that for one lifetime?"

Lily breathed out as her lower body unfroze. Her knees wobbled as she got shakily to her feet. She watched him cautiously. He was lowering his wand.

"I know why he did it.' Wormtail threw his wand down with a clatter. 'Harry, I mean. I know why he's dead and it's not because the Dark Lord was quicker or superior… it's because Harry allowed him to be so. He sacrificed himself because he thought he was a Horcrux, didn't he?"

"You don't know Harry,' growled Lily. 'You don't know what he would do."

"No… but I know James. And I know you. And I know that you both would do the same thing… and how could Harry not be like you?"

Lily's eyes narrowed and she folded her arms over her chest. She felt much more at ease now that he too was wandless.

"How do _you_ know about Horcruxes?"

"Regulus."

Lily frowned. "Sirius's little brother?"

Wormtail nodded. "He confided in me. Years ago."

"But you hated each other."

"At school. But we were two of the few back then who realized what we'd…' he paused, his Addams apple bobbing with emotion. 'We had kinship in our desperation to escape, and he was always looking for ways out of our oaths. When he discovered the Hocruxes he came to me and told me he had a way out; that all we had to do was destroy them, make The Dark Lord mortal, and then…' he sighed, and Lily saw his eyes filling with tears. 'I let him go alone because I was too scared to even try. And I never saw him again."

She could scarcely believe what she was hearing. Peter best friends with Regulus? There had been odder parings out there, she supposed. War brought all kinds of people together.

Her curiosity was outweighing her anger by now. If he wasn't going to push her through the veil, then why were they here? And why did he want to save Harry when he was on the other side?

"What do you want, Peter?"

Wormtail flinched, a flash of pleasure passing over his face at hearing the sound of his name before he looked away, back down at his hand. He walked toward her and Lily tensed, but he continued around her without giving her even the slightest glance. She watched as he walked up to the Veil and stared up at it, the fluttering curtain stopping millimeters short of brushing against him.

"Do you remember what's on the other side of this archway?' he asked as she moved up behind him. 'Do you remember what happens? Where you go?"

"Sometimes,' she muttered.

"Don't suppose it matters,' he said with a sad smile, 'I doubt I'll end up in the same place you were."

She stared at him in disbelief, realization settling in finally. "You're not…"

"Did you honestly think I would send you through? After everything…" his voice caught in his throat. 'That's not why I brought you here."

"Then why?"

He didn't answer. He held his silver hand up to examine it.

Lily hugged herself, feeling a shiver run down her spine. "Why are you doing this?"

"You mean, why am I trying to resurrect the enemy of my Lord and Master instead of my Lord and Master himself?' he scratched his balding head, as if trying to work it out himself. 'I owe your son. If walking through this veil brings him back it's the least I can do. He deserves to live and I… well…' He trailed off, his head bowing. 'I'm responsible for so much. I don't want to go to Azkaban, even though I deserve to rot there, but this… this seems a better way to try and make a mends than spend the rest of my life rotting away in the middle of the ocean just so people can feel a surge of justice and satisfaction to think of me in there.

'Harry was supposed to bring about a better world.' He nodded, agreeing with himself. 'A world we all hoped for. A world you and James hoped he could grow up in. And tonight he achieved it, but it seems unfair that he shouldn't get to live in it. He's better than all of us – I spoke to him for less than ten minutes and I could tell. He showed me mercy when no-one else would or could. He's good and pure and brave and everything I'm not even though I wanted to be… and this new world needs people like him more than they need monsters like me."

Lily frowned at the back of his head. She'd never heard him speak like this, so grown up – or even so much at all. He'd always been a man of few words, and those few words were always mumbled and stuttered and forced out of his mouth. Now he sounded so heavy and sad, as though he were relieved he could say them at all.

She didn't know how to respond. She felt like she should say something, but she couldn't think what. What was there to say? He was telling the truth.

"Also, there's this…' he continued. He held his hand up, his silver hand, and spoke to her over his shoulder. 'He never said so, at least I never heard him…"

"You think that's another Horcrux?' Lily's eyes widened.

"He had just killed someone just before he gave this to me, and he was very insistent on keeping me around even though I'm completely useless and insignificant…" Wormtail shrugged and turned back to the Veil. "Better safe than sorry."

A sudden sadness sank in the pit of Lily's stomach as she watched Wormtail standing in front of her, gearing himself up to take those few steps forward into what he knew would be the end of his time on this plane of existence. He was scared, she could see him trembling, see him shifting his weight from one foot to the other like he used to back when James would sneak down to the local pub with Sirius at two in the morning and he was covering for them both.

Was he waiting for her to try and stop him? Was he expecting her to say that he didn't need to do this? That she forgave him and that it was okay? Lily wasn't going to lie to herself or him – if she had the choice between the man in front of her and her son, she knew who she's pick… and, most likely, so did Wormtail.

But at the expense of his life?

"You said 'We'."

"Pardon?"

Lily barely held back a smile. Twenty years of associating with the most evil scum on the earth and he still had the manners his mother had tirelessly spent this entire youth instilling upon him.

"When you were talking about the Death Eaters, you said 'we'. You still count yourself as one of them?"

"What else can I count myself as?' he rolled his left sleeve up and brandished the snake and skull tattoo at her.

Lily winced, unable to help herself. Seeing the Dark Mark on him made her stomach churn and her hands tingle. Even now, seeing him in the flesh, knowing everything he had done, hearing him confess it all to her, it still seemed as surreal as it had the first time she'd found out. Of all the people to turn to the other side, to commit such heinous acts, the last person she ever would have expected or even considered would have been Peter Pettigrew.

But when she thought about it now, in hindsight, it had been stupid not to consider him. He'd always associated himself with the most powerful person in town. He'd been terrified of death, only joining the Order of the Phoenix because James, Sirius and Remus had and he didn't want to be thought of as a coward, and at the time it had looked grim for anyone associating themselves with Dumbledore. Voldemort wouldn't have had to have offered him much to try and persuade him to their side.

She was furious with him. She even hated him. But he was one of her oldest friends. He was one of James's best friends. She couldn't just stand there and let him do this.

"Look, you don't… it's…"

"Don't,' he said suddenly. 'I know that look. I didn't bring you here to try and stop me. I know you don't really want to, you're just feeling like you should because it's the right thing to do… which, in a way is nice. But this,' he gestured at the veil, '_this_ is the right thing to do. It feels good to do something good for people for once. Feels like I've been ruining people's lives my whole life."

"That's not true.' She reasoned on reflex. 'What you did for Remus at school… and…' she stopped, drawing a blank. Wormtail didn't bother to offer any suggestions.

"I'm sorry I kidnapped you. I know you wanted to stay with Harry, I just…" he laughed once without humor.

He turned to look at her finally. His eyes were red and puffy. Lily felt uncomfortable that the sight of him pulled at her heartstrings. Old habits died hard. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"I'm sorry,' he gasped. 'I know it means nothing to you and you won't believe me… but I am so very sorry."

"It doesn't mean nothing," She whispered.

"I'd go to your grave,' he continued, his voice breaking the more he spoke. 'Every Halloween I would go, even when I was undercover with the Weasley's. I'd sneak out of their house, borrow one of their wands, apparate to Godric's Hollow and kneel at your graves and every single time I'd beg for your forgiveness, even though I knew I'd never get it. Even now I know you won't…' he paused and blinked tears from his eyes. 'I don't expect it, but I need you to know. I need to know you hear me."

Lily nodded. "I hear you."

Wormtail sighed and looked relieved. He didn't need to hear that she forgave him, but he knew she didn't.

He turned back to the Veil and shook his silver hand, as if there were something on it. His shoulders started to shake and she thought he'd finally broken down completely, but after a moment she realized he was laughing.

"You know this is the longest conversation I've had with anyone in years?' he chuckled. 'People usually tell me to sod off or just try and curse me. You were always so kind to me, Lily, listening to me prattle on about my day, being sympathetic when the other guys ganged up on me… even now, after everything I've done for you…"

Lily felt an awful weight in her chest. And then he began to walk forward.

"Peter, wait!"

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Wormtail stopped, turned looked at her. She opened and closed her mouth, trying to find something to say, to form some sort of argument as to why this shouldn't be happening but she came up blank. But then she noticed the smile on his face, and it seemed she didn't have to say anything.

Wormtail nodded at her once, then turned back to the Veil and walked forward. He didn't even pause, just walked straight through.

He didn't come back out the other side.

It was a long moment before Lily released the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She looked at the Veil, the curtain blowing in a seemingly non-existent breeze, trying to wrap her brain around what just happened. He was gone, without fanfare or drama or argument or sound. Just gone.

She walked forward and studied the stone Archway. When she's watched Sirius fall through it in Harry's memory she'd been too horrified by what she was seeing to really take notice of it. It had a sort of demented beauty about it. It was just a stone archway after all. But the fact of what it did…

"Hello,' she said to it, feeling immediately stupid for doing so.

She peered past the curtain as it fluttered. He couldn't see anything but the wall behind it, but she could hear something. Hushed voices.

"Peter?' she whispered uncertainly. 'Is that you?"

She couldn't make out anything they were saying, but she could hear them, only just, like breaths of wind.

It was only when the curtain brushed against her face did she realize she was walking forward. Lily stumbled back quickly and looked up at the arch. It was almost looming over her, inviting her in, and she took a few more steps back.

The further away she moved, the easier it was to think. And as she stepped down from the dais she instantly remembered.

"Harry,' she breathed.

Lily ran over to the wand Wormtail had, she assumed, stolen from someone and picked it up. She didn't recognize it and it felt too hard in her hand but she didn't care. As long as it didn't put up too much resistance and splinch her…

With a 'pop' she left the Ministry behind, felt herself being compressed, then breathed again as her feet landed on grass.

"_Lily_!"

Seven Weasleys and Hermione looked up at her in shock. Behind them the sky was lightening, the tiniest tinge of pale orange beginning to lace the horizon.

Mrs. Weasley (who had had her arm around Percy, of all people – something Lily took a mental note of to ask about later) stepped forward looking aghast. And she wasn't the only one. Everyone seemed to get on their feet at once and move toward her.

"What's happening?"

"Where have you been?"

"It's Wormtail! He's escaped!"

"Axleby is still limping around from the curse…"

"He must have transformed into a rat and made a run for it…"

"Scrimgeour is furious…"

"We came in to tell you but you were gone!"

Lily barely stayed long enough to hear any of this. She turned on her heel and dashed back into the tent, their voices dying behind her.

Ginny was sitting in the chair she had been occupying earlier. She was leant forward, her face in her hands. Her hair was curtaining her face from view, but she looked up when Lily entered. Her eyes were red and puffy.

"Mrs. Potter!' she sat up, as if feeling guilty for taking her place. 'Where have you been? Wormtail's escaped and… why are you smiling?"

Lily's cheeks were hurting as she smiled for what seemed like the first time in years. Her chest was filling with warmth and before she knew it her body was shaking with giggles. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Ginny looking at her in disbelief, but her eyes were locked on the cot in front of her.

The empty cot.

"Harry!' Ginny cried in alarm. 'But he was… he was right here! How did… where… oh Merlin, you don't think Wormtail… I swear I haven't left his side… _why are you laughing_?"

Ginny's desperate tone tore Lily's eyes away from the cot. She was laughing with so much fervor it was hurting her stomach, but Ginny's panic began to sober her up.

"Oh Ginny, I'm sorry,' she chuckled, grabbing Ginny by the upper arms, 'don't panic, it's okay…"

"_Okay_? Harry's gone!"

"Yes,' Lily laughed tears filling her eyes, 'yes he is."

Ginny looked at her as if she'd gone mad. Lily supposed she looked like she had, laughing like she was. But she couldn't help it.

"I haven't cracked, I promise,' she soothed, keeping the giggling to a minimum but unable to hide her smile. 'Go get everyone in here – including the Order."

"But…"

"Just do it. I'll explain everything to all of you."

Ginny looked back at the empty bed and her face drained of colour.

"Ginny!"

"Yes… alright… but…"

"Everything will make sense, I promise. Now go!"

Reluctantly, Ginny gave the cot one last look and then slipped out of the tent.

Lily sighed and the giggles started again as she sat down on the cot. She ran a hand over the pillow; the indent of Harry's head was still there.

"Thank you, God,' she whispered, lying down, inhaling Harry's smell. 'Thank you… thank you… thank you…"

* * *

a/n – There is more coming, I promise! Again, I don't know how long it will be until it can get it to you, but I do try my hardest, I promise! I love you all for being so patient, I know I don't deserve it!


	50. Chapter 49

(One Month Later)

5:58.

He stared at the little yellow numbers with contempt. Why, for once, just to shake things up, couldn't the clock run backward? Why did it hate him so much? Why did it take such sick pleasure in tormenting him? As if it knew how warm and comfortable he was in bed, snuggled under the covers, and was jealous because it had to spend the night out on the bedside table without even a pillow to lean against and was determined that if it had to suffer, so did he.

The sky was still dark, dawn not yet breaking. Surely there had to be some sort of rule against this sort of thing. When the sun came up, you got up – wasn't that the way of the universe? It should have been.

5:59.

One minute to go. He closed his eyes and took advantage of his last sixty seconds of comfort, knowing exactly what was going to happen when the minute ended. Sleep was creeping back over him as he drew his legs up into the fetal position and pulled the covers in tighter. He hadn't had a lot of sleep last night; dreams of people he didn't know and places he didn't recognize constantly waking him up. It had been frustrating. If there was one thing he treasured, it was sleep. He supposed that's what he got for staying up until one in the morning watching movies.

6.00.

The alarm wailed just as he had expected. His hand shot out with lighting speed and hit the snooze button, cutting the screeching off mere moments after it had started. He sat up a little, listening to see if anyone else in the house had heard it, and after a long moment of silence he smiled, thinking he had got away with it.

Then he heard footsteps approaching.

Quick as a flash he was lying back down, curled on his side toward the door, covers pulled up to his chin. He closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep while still keeping them open the tiniest of fractions so as to be able to see when the door opened.

The footsteps drew closer and closer until they stopped right out the front of his door. Then there was a knock.

"Are you awake in there?"

He said nothing.

After a long moment the door handle turned and the door was pushed inward, admitting a short, middle aged woman entry. Through the tiny slit of his eyelids he could see the light of the hallway lighting her from behind, giving her a strange sort of halo and turning the ends of her short black bushy hair an off shade of gray.

She hovered near the door for a moment, staring at him, her hands in the pockets of her apron. He saw her head tilt to one side, and then she moved toward him.

He shut his eyes completely, hoping his expression was as neutral as he was molding it to be. She moved closer and closer until he could feel her standing right over him. He slowed his breathing as she leant down toward him, hoping she wouldn't see the heat in his cheeks in the dim light.

Then she hit him in the arm.

"Harry, get up. I heard your alarm go off."

Harry sighed and opened his eyes. "I need to work on my reflexes."

She chuckled, moved around to the window and threw the curtains open. The sky outside was lighter than he had expected, but the sun was still yet to break over the horizon.

"Your reflexes are fine. I just have exceptional hearing. Now come on, out of that bed. You need to have breakfast before you go meet Ewan."

Harry groaned and flopped back down onto his pillow. "Five more minutes?"

"No."

"Two more minutes?"

"No."

"One more minute?"

"One more minute and those pancakes will be all gone."

Harry sat up. "You made pancakes?"

She raised her eyebrows and gave him a look as she walked out of the room. "Come downstairs and find out!' she called from the hallway.

"Damn you, Poppy,' Harry muttered with a smile, dragging himself out of bed.

* * *

Poppy was flipping her sixth pancake by the time Harry entered the kitchen, still half asleep, but dressed.

"Maple syrup?' he asked, throwing himself into the nearest chair.

"Here,' she gestured to the jug on the bench behind her.

Harry half-stood, reached over and grabbed it. That was one of the perks of her kitchen being so small; everything was in easy reach from any position in the room. Despite her constant mutterings about how cramped it was and how she didn't know for the life of her how anyone was supposed to bake any sort of pastry or cake in such a dismal little space, Harry knew she appreciated this one advantage.

"Ewan not joining us?' Harry asked, pulling the morning paper toward him. His eyes glazed over the headline '_Prime Minister in trouble over suspected terrorist attack cover-up'_ and turned right to the 'gossip section', Harry liked to think of it. It was always more interesting.

He was about to read an article about a woman who swore she saw a dragon flying over her estate in Scotland when a plate piled with at least four pancakes lathered in butter was placed in front of him.

"He's already left. Eat."

Harry rolled his eyes as Poppy placed a pot of jam and hazelnut spread beside his pancakes. "Subtle."

"You're skin and bones. _Still_.' Poppy's eyes raked over him as she went back to stirring her pancake batter. 'What do I have to feed you to make you look less like some scrawny street urchin?"

"Scrawny?' Harry flexed his right arm. It had bulked up a little since his first night there. Farm work obviously had its perks.

"I fed Keith half the rubbish I feed you and he put on ten pounds in one summer!"

"Fast metabolism, I guess.'

"Were your parents skinny?"

Harry looked up from the jam jar he was dipping his knife into. Poppy looked horrified with herself.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry… it just slipped out…"

"Its okay,' he smiled reassuringly. 'It's a fair question. I just wish I could give you an answer."

He didn't look away fast enough. He caught of glimpse of that look – the same look she always had when she thought he didn't know she was watching him. She same look she'd had on her face the first morning they'd met; when he woke up in the same bed he'd woken up in just now without any idea of where he was, who he was or how he had gotten there. The only thing he had known was his name.

So he didn't have to try and fill in the awkward silence he cut up some of his pancake, lathered it up with jam and cream and shoved it in his mouth.

"Mmmmmm,' he moaned dramatically, rolling his eyes in pleasure, '_derishous_."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, for heavens sake boy!' Poppy laughed, throwing a tea rag at him. 'Just eat."

Harry smiled to himself as she turned back to the stove. He felt that old sense of appreciation coming over him again as he watched her cook up the rest of the pancake batter. Not many people would take a complete stranger into their homes for one night, let alone let them stay for nearly five weeks, feed them, clothe them and treat them as if they were a part of the family – even if they had just shown up in one of their paddocks one night completely out of the blue with no memory of how they had gotten there or who they were in the first place. Harry counted himself extremely lucky. Anyone else would have had called the cops on him and sent him off to the big house before he could even mutter the words, 'where am I?'

His stomach churned with guilty the more he thought about how much she had done for him… and how ungrateful he was being by lying to her.

He was on his feet suddenly. Poppy turned around at the sound of his chair scraping back. "You're not leaving yet? You've barely eaten anything!"

"Ewan's waiting for me… you know how he gets… put them in the fridge I'll have them for dessert, yeah?' Harry ducked around the bench, seized her by the shoulders and planted a quick kiss on the top of her head. 'Breakfast was brilliant.'

As he grabbed his coat and dashed out the back door, he tried to ignore the feeling of being scrutinized.

* * *

"You're late. No, don't tell me… alarm didn't go off, right?"

Harry skidded to a halt out the front of the barn, sending gravel everywhere. The old man in front of him had his arms folded over his chest; the thick coat and many layers of tweed and wool under it giving off the appearance of bulging muscles. His cap was tilted to the side and his grey hair was sticking out slightly from underneath, frizzing from the cold morning.

"Something like that,' Harry gasped, trying to catch his breath. He gave the big, apologetic eyes. 'Sorry, Ewan."

Ewan ground his teeth together as he considered him for a long moment, then he grunted. "S'alright. Poppy's pancakes have that effect."

Harry waited until Ewan had turned his back to smile.

Ewan dragged the barn door open and lead them inside. Harry remembered how the almost overwhelming mixed scent of hay and molasses and animal droppings and wet horse hair had been the first time he was brought into the barn. He barely gave it a second thought anymore.

The older man was walked forward, his worn leather boots crunching in the straw, not even bothering to see if Harry was behind him. "I need all the horses rotated from one, two and three to four, five and six. We've got Peter's prize heifer coming over this afternoon – apparently the bulls are going him in the paddock and he needs him out of the way while he works out his barriers. And I'll need them groomed, including their tails this time, and their pens cleaned."

Harry nodded. "By lunchtime?"

Ewan gave only one nod. Harry need not have asked – everything always had to be done by lunchtime.

"Oh, and you'll need to bring the hay bails in from out the back too."

"All of them?"

"Leave about five. I'll take them out to the cows later on this afternoon. The roof of the chicken coop needs mending too; I left everything you'll need next to it. Also you need to meet Hamish at about one – he's bringing over that new drench for the Ewe's."

Harry smirked. "I thought you said that brand was new-age rubbish."

"Yeah, well…' Ewan turned to face Harry, an irritated look on his face which Harry supposed meant that Ewan had not been in charge of this decision without some sort of influence from his spouse, '… it's cheaper."

"Uh-huh."

Ewan narrowed his eyes at Harry. "I'm going down the hill to fix the roof of the shed. Don't you even start,' He added as Harry opened his mouth to insist, for what seemed the millionth time, that Ewan should let him handle it. 'I built this farm with my bare hands, including that shed, and I can fix it just fine by myself. Now if you don't mind…"

Shoulders stiff, Ewan marched back out of the barn.

Harry watched him go, at a loss yet fascinated all the same. Ewan accepted help from no-one, and on the odd occasion he did it was only because Poppy forced him to. He was quite possibly the most stubborn man Harry had ever met.

At least he thought so. He couldn't remember meeting anyone prior to a month ago.

It had been like trying to get Big Ben to move, convincing Ewan to let Harry stay with them on the farm, let alone allow Harry help him out with the chores. Ewan was so used to doing almost everything himself. He wasn't a young man anymore, in his mid-seventies now, and Poppy had been on him for years to hire some farm hands to help around the place. It had been convenient for all of them. Ewan needed help, and Harry needed a place to stay.

Harry suspected that one of the only reasons he had let Harry help was because he didn't have to pay him anything.

As Harry changed into his work boots (hanging his sneakers up on their usual peg by the door), and made his way into the first stall he tried to concentrate on the large black stallion whinnying in front of him. But his mind kept drifting to the tiny little shed for the sheep to take shelter in during storms, down in the farthest paddock; how it leant slightly to the left, his corrugated iron walls punctured with holes, its small windows smudged with grime, and the many holes in the roof that needed to be patched up, which was Ewan's mission for the day. Harry didn't like to think of him up on the ladder, trying crawl up onto the roof, let along trying to haul heavy tools and wood up there as well.

"Whoa, easy Jesse!' the horse nuzzled Harry impatiently, bring him back to the present. 'Why the long face? Ha! Only joking. Come on; let's get you looking pretty then, eh?"

It was mindless work and Harry enjoyed it for this very reason. It was simple, mechanical and he could do it with his eyes closed; which was nice, because he was still half asleep any didn't think he could manage anything that involved thinking or problem solving. Mornings definitely weren't his thing – one of the few things he had discovered about himself.

The horses put up little resistance to being moved; Harry assumed they weren't morning people either, but the sugar cubes he brandished under their noses seemed to be motivation enough. Cleaning out their pens was his least favorite thing to do, so with a look of disgust he abandoned the job and went out to collect the bails, resolving to muck the pens out later.

He was outside, picking up the last hay bail when the sound of an approaching motorbike caught his attention. He looked around and saw Ewan coming over the hill on his four-wheel bike. He zoomed over the grass, onto the dirt track, through the gate and came to a screeching halt in front of Harry.

"That was quick. You give up?'

Only once Ewan was off his bike did he see how angry he was.

"I told you not to."

Harry frowned. "Sorry?"

Ewan inflated, his face going red behind his beard. "I told you not to touch that bloody shed! I told you _I_ was going to fix it."

"I know, I remember. I didn't touch it.

"Then why is it completely fixed?"

"It is? Well I don't know. I haven't been down there."

"Don't lie to me boy!"

Harry flinched and took a step backward. Although a head shorter than him, Ewan was still very intimidating. "I promise I didn't do anything! I've been here the whole time."

"Then you snuck down there in the middle of the night?"

"No!"

"Then how do you explain it? Magic?"

Harry held his hands up defensively. "Ewan, I swear to God I haven't been down there."

"Then you paid someone to come do it."

"I wouldn't go behind your back like that. You told me to leave it alone and I did."

Ewan glared up at Harry for a long moment, saying nothing, as if trying to intimidate him into confessing. Then he let out a huff, turned on his heel and marched back toward the house. Harry could hear him muttering to himself as he kicked stones from his path.

Harry wiped his sweaty hands on his dirty t-shirt as he watched Ewan leave, inexplicably feeling as though he had just dodged a bullet. He felt a tiny ball of dread settle in his stomach. Did Ewan honestly not believe him? Was he going to tell Poppy what had happened? Would Poppy take Ewan's side? Would they kick him out?

Feeling as though he had to prove himself worth keeping, Harry picked up the hay bail and hurried back into the barn with a renewed vigor. He stacked it up with the others, grabbed the pitchfork and rushed into the first pen, his usual revulsion for the chose taking a backseat to his panic. Would they really ask him to leave over something so trivial? For something he hadn't even done?

Harry frowned as he stabbed the first pile of horse manure. Who _had_ fixed the shed then? He knew he wasn't the only one in the village who felt concern towards Ewan and his stubborn refusal to accept help, even for things that were beyond him like clearing the guttering from the house or re-shingling roof's, but no-one else had known about the shed but him, Ewan and Poppy, so it couldn't have been someone sneaking down in the middle of the night.

Ewan didn't come back out of the house again for another hour. Harry watched from the barn as he stacked the bales of hay, feeling confused and nervous, but Ewan simply got in his truck and drove off down the driveway, leaving dust and gravel flying in his wake. He watched the house for a few more long moments to make sure Poppy wasn't going to come out and politely tell him he needed to leave. She didn't.

His chores flew by, his mind focused on everything but what he was supposed to be doing, and before he knew it he was outside, replacing the flat tire on the other four wheel bike when a red truck pulled up the drive and skidded to a stop beside the barn.

A stocky young man with messy light brown hair and a grin like a Cheshire cat got out and waved. "Alright there, mate?"

"Hamish,' Harry got to his feet and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Is it one already?"

"Buggered if I know.' He laughed, going around to the back of his truck.

"What are you doing here then?"

"Boss told me I needed to drop off this new drench? Laughed in his face when he told me who it was for.' He chuckled, handing Harry the plastic container. It sloshed around as Harry struggled to hold it, unprepared for how heavy it was. Hamish had given off the impression it barely weighed anything.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Thought Ewan was sticking with that stupid overpriced bollocks."

"So did I."

Hamish snorted. "Take it Poppy got sick of him wasting their money?"

"She likes going to Bingo. The more money they have, the more often she can afford to go – but don't tell either of them I said anything."

"Lips are sealed, brother,' he mimicked pulling a zip across his mouth and looked around. 'Where is the old coot then?"

Harry shrugged. "Been gone for a few hours. He said something about Mr. McCreedy's Heffer coming over…"

"You finished your chores then?'

He narrowed his eyes at the smirk Hamish was giving him. "Just about. I've just got to change this tire then…"

"Brilliant! Let's get down the pub; I'll buy you a pint."

"I can't go into town!"

"Why the bloody hell not?"

"I've got things to do! And you've got more deliveries surely?"

Hamish shrugged. "I get an hour for lunch. Come on, one drink. I'm shouting! How can you say no to a free drink?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "But…"

"But nothing!' Hamish shoved Harry back toward the barn. 'Go put that drench away, tell Poppy you have to go into town for something important and we'll be out of here."

"_But_…"

"Christ almighty you come up with more excuses than my Uncle in rehab.' Hamish sighed and started for the house. 'You want me to tell her? Seen as you can't find your bollocks and all."

Harry grabbed Hamish by the back of his jumper and pulled him back roughly. "Go warm up the sodding truck."

Hamish laughed and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Fantastic! Hurry up though, yeah? The two for one lunch deal in the bistro is only for half an hour."

Twenty minutes later Harry was sitting in a booth across from Hamish at the local Pub. In fact, the only pub; the town was so small it only had enough room for one. Harry suspected even the post office was bigger than this run down old tavern. It was old, dark and a little shabby, but its atmosphere was warm and somehow familiar, and when he wasn't doing chores on the farm or running errands for Poppy, he was enjoying himself at the bar. He'd often wondered if his attachment to the establishment stemmed from the fact that he was something of an alcoholic, but dismissed the thought just as quickly – he wasn't old enough to be a drunk.

Harry looked up from his half eaten fish and chips at the sound of Hamish chuckling. "What's funny?"

"You,' he grinned, his Scottish accent unmistakable even in just one word. 'You're staring at that like it holds all the secrets of a woman's brain."

He dropped the chip he had been turning over back onto his plate.

"Stop looking so glum, you're putting me off my food. I promised I'd have you back in an hour and I will… unless you plan on eating your food and slower, then we're gonna run into a slight problem."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize – eat. More?' Hamish seized the large pitcher and topped up Harry's beer without waiting for a response. 'Ewan will get over it. He's a cranky old bastard but he doesn't really hold grudges. Old people never do. They don't have enough time."

"He wasn't just cranky. He looked ready to clock me right in the mouth."

"Eh, that's just how his face is. You live with him, you should know that by now."

"Exactly. That's how I know he wasn't just irritated."

Hamish sighed and put his hamburger down. "I swear you'd have to be the only person in his village worried about hurting Ewan's feelings and what he thinks of you. Look, he's stubborn and proud, and you fixing that shed behind his back – I believe you didn't! Don't look at me like that – he feels like you're patronizing him, that you think he's too old to be doing the things he's doing anymore."

Harry ruffled his already messed hair. "Well, lets be honest, he is."

"I agree with you… as does every Tom, Dick and Harry in this village – no pun intended there, by the way."

"You know, people would believe you a lot easier if you didn't smirk like that when you say things."

"Point is he's just wounded, is all. Stop worrying about it. He's not going to kick you out."

"I didn't think he was."

"Yeah you did,' said Hamish matter-of-factly, biting into his burger once again.

Harry glared at him, frustrated that he was so transparent, but at the same time grateful for Hamish's take on the situation. Hamish was Harry's closest friend in the village and always came through to tell Harry when he was being an idiot. Harry appreciated his honest, blunt approach to his drama – most of the time.

"Besides,' Hamish laughed, 'they'd have to be nutters to throw out the cheapest farm hand they've had in decades."

Harry smiled, taking a sip of his beer.

"Who'd've imagined! Some random drunk showing up in the middle of your paddock in the middle of the night with no idea of how he got there – of all the luck!"

"I wasn't drunk."

"How do you know? You can't remember anything from before that night."

"That's not true,' said Harry defensively, 'I remember my name."

"Yeah, and a fat lot of good it does you. You know what would be useful? A surname, or a home address, or next of kin… you know. Insignificant details."

Harry remembered his first week with the McCluskeys. He remembered his first night, waking up in Ewan and Poppy's grown son Keith's room, not knowing where he was or how he had gotten there. Poppy had been sitting beside him and after they had established that he wasn't a crazy person or a drunk or a criminal on the run from the law, she had calmly enquired about him and it was then Harry had realized he couldn't give her any answers. He still remembered how it had felt to search for memories and find nothing – it had been so surreal and off-putting, he still didn't think he could describe it.

He hadn't even known what he looked like until he got up the next morning and looked in the mirror. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't what he had found. The scar on his forehead had been the first thing he'd noticed, the second his hair that he had assumed was messy because he'd just gotten out of bed, but it had stayed the same the whole day, and he resigned to the fact that he was just one of those people who were forever stuck in a never ending loop of bad hair days. He was skinny and alright looking, he supposed, and he'd quickly gotten used to seeing his face looking back at him in the mirror.

The first thing they'd done was go to the hospital to make sure he was alright – at Poppy's insistence. Ewan had wanted to take him straight to the Police station and have him locked up for trespassing and attempted break in and entering and theft. But, after a long discussion Ewan had driven him; Poppy had volunteered to take him, but Ewan had refused to let Harry be alone with her. It wasn't until they medically diagnosed him as having Retrograde Amnesia that Ewan finally softened slightly toward him. Soften, as in he didn't press charges at least.

There next stop had been the Police station, not to throw him behind bars, but to report him as a John Doe and get him in the system. Knowing his first name had helped; the officer in charge said they didn't usually have even that to go on. But even now nothing had come up. No-one had reported anyone matching his description missing. Harry tried not to get too hung up about it, but it was hard to think that no-one out there was missing him.

Hamish looked up at him with a rare solemn expression. "_Do_ you remember anything? It's been a month after all."

Guilt churned in his stomach again and he looked back down at his plate, unable to match Hamish's eyes. The truth was that yes, he did remember something. Slowly but surely his memories had been coming back to him, apparently starting from his earliest memory and going in the order of his life. He remembered his last name was Potter. He remembered that he lived in Little Whinging, Surrey. He remembered that he had an Uncle, and an Aunt, and a cousin and that he lived with them because his parents had died in a car accident when he was a baby. He remembered he was an orphan living with the most horrendous family in the entire world.

But he didn't say anything, because he knew if he did he would have to go back to the Dursleys, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Harry shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I remember some things. I remember places and faces, but nothing I recognize. They're just images."

Hamish nodded and held his beer up. "I feel like that after I've had a few of these babies."

"Dr. Reynolds said I can get most of them back if I just take it easy. A lot of amnesia sufferers can get a majority of their memories back."

"What about that?' Hamish pointed to the back of Harry's right hand.

Harry looked down at the faded words, _I must not tell lies_. This puzzled him more than anything. "No clue."

"S'pose it's one of those invisible tattoos you can get now adays?"

"Maybe. What else could it be? Not like I'm stupid enough to carve words into my own hand. Although why I chose such a daft sentence I'll never know."

Hamish smirked. Harry threw a chip at his head.

"Must be frustrating for you,"

It was. He felt incredibly frustrated every day. Yes his memories were coming back, but not the ones he wanted. He didn't care about his tenth birthday and how the only thing marking the day in history had been how Dudley and his gang of no-brain deadbeats had shoved him inside of Mrs. Figg's rubbish bin, put a large boulder from her garden on top of the lid and trapped him in there. He'd been in there for hours until Mrs. Figg had finally come outside to take out her trash and found him, limbs stiff and clothes filthy and stinky. Or how Aunt Marge's bulldog Ripper had chased him up a tree and no-one had done anything but laugh at him. Or the amount of times Harry had to sneak tiny bits of tape from Aunt Petunia's arts cupboard so he could fix his glasses because Dudley had punched him in the face and broken them.

What he _did_ want to know was how he had ended up in the McCluskey's field in the middle of the night in the first place. What had he been doing miles away from Number Four by himself? Had it been another prank of Dudley's? His Aunt and Uncle would be glad of his absence, that was for sure, but surely they would have at least noticed him missing by now?

And why didn't he need his glasses anymore?

He'd had them on him when Poppy had found him, but he'd woken up with perfect vision. Although, strangely enough, as time had gone on he'd noticed he was starting to get headaches and things were getting more and more blurry. He looked at the menu beside his plate and, sure enough, he had to squint to make sense of it all; his eyes hurting with the strain.

"Yeah,' Harry murmured absentmindedly. 'Frustrating. Sure."

"Oh, you're zoning out. I love it when you do this."

Harry blinked. Hamish was grinning at him. "Sorry. Just thinking."

"Well don't, makes you look like you're about to vomit. Bloody hell, will you look at the time! Here, finish my beer, I'll go pay."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Hamish was already up and half way to the bar. He sighed and downed the rest of his own drink, smacking his lips and enjoying the taste. He half wanted to go back to the Dursleys, just to see what they would say. Would they even offer to take him back in? He doubted it. He was nearly eighteen and they wouldn't be legally bound to him anymore. He didn't really fancy trying to fit in the cupboard under the stairs again anyway.

Besides, he liked his life now, if that's what he could call it. He liked Poppy and her warm, maternal nature. He liked Ewan and his strong sense of self. He liked that they didn't find his presence offensive; that they actually smiled when he entered the room – or, in Ewan's case, nodded in acknowledgement. He also liked how they were together, how they bounced off each other, how they balanced each other out. Yes it was awkward when they fought, which was an awful lot – Harry had always assumed old people got on with each other, too old and tired to get angry about anything anymore, let alone their spouse of fifty years – but he didn't mind all that much, and yes he wouldn't have stayed had he had somewhere else to go (the Dursleys didn't count), but he was with people who didn't seem to mind him being around, something he'd never really experienced before, and he didn't want to give that up in a hurry.

Where else could he go? He had no back account, no job experience, no credit history and no money. The last thing he could remember, the most insignificant memory, was being at Mrs. Figg's down the street and watching television and eating stale chocolate cake.

Hamish sat down again with a sigh. "I love Two-for-One Tuesdays! And not just because it's double the fun…' he tossed a napkin in front of Harry and sat back, folding his arms over his chest with a smug smile. 'Take a gander at that, my friend."

Harry squinted at the tiny black lettering. "It's… a phone number?"

"Of course it's a phone number! What's wrong with you? And not just _any_ phone number…"

Harry looked at the pretty blonde girl Hamish was discreetly pointing to. She was standing behind the bar, filling up a jug with foaming beer. "Kelly?"

As if hearing their conversation, Kelly looked over at them. She beamed, her large blue eyes sparkling as she recognized him and waved. Harry cheeks felt warm as he waved back.

Hamish grinned, looking very pleased with himself. "She works Tuesdays, Friday's and Sunday afternoons. I gave her thirty quid, she gave me her phone number."

"Completely of her own free will I'm sure,' Harry smirked, knowing how persistent Hamish could be. 'What happened to Amanda?"

"Told me I wasn't mature enough for her, that we were in different places…you know. The usual bollocks. She moved to London last week."

"I can tell you're heartbroken."

"Absolutely. A pair of legs like hers I won't soon forget.' Hamish sculled the rest of his drink and the two of them got up from the table. 'Think you've got a bird somewhere?"

Harry thought about it and felt a sudden sense of loneliness. He hadn't considered this before. "I don't think so."

"Don't see why not. You're not an Elephant man… and you have that whole sensitivity thing going on that girls love…"

"Surely if I did she would have at least attempted to find me by now."

"Not necessarily. You snore? She might be enjoying the peace and quiet for a while."

Harry smiled and followed Hamish out into the street. He squinted against the harsh light, his eyes so accustomed to the dim of the pub. It seemed odd, the thought of having a girlfriend. He didn't even know what type of girl he was into. He hoped he'd at least snogged a girl. Eighteen years old and no first kiss? He hated to think of himself being so pathetic. He wished he could remember. Something like that would be nice to recollect – it would be a nice change from thinking about going whole days with no food and getting beaten up.

A hand suddenly flew in front of Harry's face. "_Whoa_!"

"What?"

"Did you see that?"

"You nearly smacking me in the nose? Kinda hard to miss, you twit."

Hamish did smack him that time, but in the arm. "Two Owls just flew over us."

Harry quirked an eyebrow and looked up. Sure enough there were two owls flying away from them, both different sizes and colours. "So? You've never seen Owls before?"

"Not during the day."

"Maybe they're insomniacs?"

"And not carrying mail."

Harry stared at Hamish as they got into the truck. "How many beers did you have?"

Hamish huffed as he turned the ignition over. The truck shuddered to life. "The big black one, it was carrying a letter."

"Don't be stupid."

"You think I don't know an envelope when I see one?"

"Hamish, it was dozens of feet in the sky. How could you possibly see…"

"I saw it!"

Harry rolled his eyes and put on his seat belt. "It was probably just a mouse. Owls don't carry mail."

Hamish stared out through the windscreen for a long moment, before murmuring in agreement. "Yeah,' he put the truck in gear and they pulled away from the curb. 'Be kinda cool if they did though, eh?"

Harry thought about it, then smiled. He agreed. It would have been very cool.

* * *

"Do you want to tell me who fixed the shed now?"

Harry sighed and folded his arms over his chest, feeling his good mood evaporate. They were sitting in the living room in front of the television, the windows open letting in the cool evening breeze. Harry was on the floor; his legs were sprawled out in front of him as he leant against the couch beside Poppy. Since dinner Harry knew from her sidelong glances that she had been itching to have this conversation, and now that Ewan had left the room for a few moments to go get himself another beer she was taking full advantage of his absence.

"How many times do I have to say it before someone believes me?"

"It's not that I don't believe you…"

"Yes it is, of course it is. But I'm telling you it wasn't me and I don't know who it was and no matter how many times you ask me my story isn't going to change."

Poppy rubbed his shoulders. "I won't be mad if you just tell me the truth."

"I _am_ telling you the truth!' Harry hissed, trying to keep his voice down.

"Well, sweetheart, I hate to break it to you but sheep sheds don't just repair themselves."

There was a low grunt as Ewan came back into the room, three beer bottles wedged between his calloused fingers. He handed one down to Harry and the other to Poppy as he sank down on the couch beside her.

"Just like that hole in the barn roof didn't re-shingle itself, the furniture in the attic didn't rearrange itself and the tractor that I've spend the last four months trying to bash back into life didn't repair itself.' Ewan nodded at Harry. 'You want to explain how all these miraculous feats happen to coincide with your presence on this property?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair and squinted at the television, feeling frustrated.

"Maybe you were a handyman?' offered Poppy, cradling her beer against her chest. 'Or a mechanic?"

"I'd agree with you if I'd done any of it."

"Maybe… you sleepwalk? I've read stories about people with psychological trauma doing strange things in their sleep, acting out in weird ways as their subconscious takes over. So maybe you are doing it, but just can't remember it?'

She was drawing at straws; Harry could see how desperate she was to come up with a logical explanation for all of this so as to ease the tension between him and her husband. Harry appreciated it, but hated to put her in this position.

"That's it. I'm locking you in your room at night. Heck I'll put bars on the windows if I have to."

Poppy laughed. Harry knew he was joking despite barely being able to see the tiny smirk underneath his whiskers, but he still shivered. The thought of being locked in his bedroom, of having bars on his window, filled him with an inexplicable sense of dread.

He turned back to the television, trying to take his mind off it, but it kept forcing its way back into the front of his mind. The McCluskeys weren't the only curious ones; Harry himself couldn't figure out how these things kept happening; how jobs he wasn't even supposed to be doing were getting done before Ewan even had a chance to start them. _Was_ he sleepwalking? He supposed it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility. Odder things had happened to him.

Like that time Aunt Petunia had hacked away at his hair with a pair of kitchen scissors, so sick of his untamable mop, but the next day it had completely grown back; or how he had ended up on the roof at school when Dudley and his friends had chased after him, trying to beat him up; or how he had spoken to that snake at the zoo on Dudley's eleventh birthday and moments later set it free because the glass panel keeping it in its cage had suddenly disappeared…

Harry blinked. This was new; a new memory coming back to him. Yes, he remembered that day now; how he'd been reluctantly dragged along with the Dursleys and Dudley's little rat-faced friend Piers because Mrs. Figg, who usually babysat him when the Dursleys went out anywhere, had broken her leg and they'd had no-one else to leave him with. He remembered how furious Uncle Vernon had been with him after the incident with the glass; he'd got locked up in his cupboard for hours after breaking his promise of 'no funny business'.

Harry smirked, enjoying the new memory. The more he thought about it the more detailed it became, like dusting away the sand from an archeological find. He remembered how he'd actually got to see most of the animals without hassle, how he'd got to eat a popsicle without having to hide it from Dudley, Aunt Petunia's face as the Boa Constrictor had slithered past her, how it had thanked it from setting it free…

He frowned. _Thanked_ him? That's right, he remembered. The snake had spoken to him, expressed how excited it was to finally be able to go to Mexico. But it was absurd. Snakes didn't talk. He must have misheard.

"Harry?' Poppy's concerned voice dragged him out of his thoughts. 'You alright, dear?"

"Yeah, uh… just…"

"You haven't touched your beer. Guinness is your favorite."

"Probably sick of beer,' muttered Ewan, 'after the seven he had at lunch."

Poppy hit him playfully in the arm. "It wasn't seven, it was two. And you leave him alone! I seem to recall a certain young man leaving for the pub against his father's orders once upon a time."

"I seem to recall a certain young woman demanding I meet her there or else the relationship was over,' Ewan threw a look, his eyes twinkling.

"Are you getting a headache?' Poppy turned back to Harry after rolling her eyes at her husband. 'I think I have some aspirin in the bathroom cupboard, I could go get it for you."

"No, no headache,' Harry said hastily, 'it's just… uh… the TV."

Ewan frowned. "Hey now, I know its not one of those big flashy things that all of you other young folk are gawking at these days, but this set has been here longer than my own son and…"

"No, the program. Do we have to watch _Song of Praise_?"

Poppy smiled and changed the station over to the news. "Better?"

Not really watching it anyway, Harry nodded and turned back, feigning interest. The story was on recent suspected terrorist attacks on London and something about another break-in at the National Museum, but he was only half listening. He was trying to strain his memories for something else, something odd that he could add to this list of bizarre things that seemed to always happen to him. Was he some sort of bad luck charm? Being in a car accident, loosing both his parents and being taken to the Dursleys all in one night could definitely be construed as bad luck. Ending up in the middle of nowhere without any memories or identification could also be put under this category.

Was there more? He couldn't remember. He started slow, leading on from the day at the zoo. He remembered lying in his cupboard, lost in thought and confusion just like he was now. Then what had happened? Yes, he remembered now – that was the start of the holidays. He remembered Dudley's gang always hanging around, leering at him but never having the opportunity to act on their impulse to hurt him because Aunt Petunia, still distressed from the incident at the zoo had given him the biggest load of chores in his life. But that was the norm around Number Four, nothing unusual there. He remembered Aunt Petunia dying Dudley's old things grey in preparation for his attendance to… where was it?... that's right, Stonewall high! He remembered; he'd not been deemed special or significant enough to go to Smeltings like Dudley, and he remembered how little he'd cared. Being forced to attend another school and being presented the opportunity to make new friends was not something Harry had considered to be "punishment".

He made a mental note to look up Stonewall's phone number in the morning. Perhaps they could help him recover the last seven years of his life; put him contact with potential friends who might know him well enough to tell him what had happened to him.

He felt a tingle go down his back. _Friends_. It was just as weird a concept as '_girlfriend'_.

"Unbelievable,' grunted Ewan.

Harry looked up, thinking Ewan was referring to him, but his and Poppy's attention was on the television. The news reporter was talking about the latest theories on the "attacks" in London, which is what they were calling it, even though the disturbance had apparently not been seen but rather felt by people walking around near the….Witnesses claimed they could feel the ground shake beneath their feet, like bombs were going off under the roads and sidewalk, but reconnaissance teams who had searched the area had found nothing. No sign of a struggle or any debris or destruction.

They pulled up a map of the areas affected and Harry squinted. It was a blur. Irritated and at his wits end, Harry pulled out the round glasses from his pocket. He didn't know why he carried them around everywhere when he hadn't needed them. He supposed they were kind of like an anchor; a reminder of the life he had lived somewhere with someone, despite the fact he couldn't remember it. They were proof that he hadn't just come out of thin air. It was a link to his old life, and even though he didn't need them they made him feel better to have on his person.

He ran the pad of his thumb over the round metal frames. He could still remember the day Aunt Petunia had taken him to the Optometrist, finally convinced by a letter from Harry's teacher explaining he could no longer see the chalkboard or read his books. Not wanting children's services on her door for neglect, she had taken him and bought him the cheapest pair of glasses available – the end product now in his hands.

For a moment he hesitated, and then slipped them on, just to try. Instantly everything became clearer and the strain on his eyes vanished. He sighed, relieved. It felt a little odd to wear them at first, and he felt subconscious and stupid, but as he got used to them it started to feel less peculiar and more right. They were not only bringing the world back into focus, but him as well. It was like slipping into an old, favorite pair of jeans.

Before he even realized what he was doing he was on his feet and rushing out of the room. He vaguely heard Ewan mutter, 'Was he wearing glasses?', but didn't stop to hear the rest. He dashed up the stairs two at a time, skidded to a halt at the second door on the right and pushed it inward.

He tripped over the damp towels he'd left on the floor as he went straight for the mirror.

It was a bizarre feeling, looking at himself now. He remembered what he used looked like with glasses on, but his face had been different then. He'd been a little kid, pre-pubescent with flawless skin and no definition. Now he was older; his jaw was angular, his features were sharper, he had stubble from forgetting to shave the past three mornings. His face, which he had slowly come to recognize as his own when he happened to walk past a window and catch his reflection, looked different with the glasses on, but not in a bad way.

Harry smiled, just to see what it would look like.

It looked stupid. He liked it.

* * *

_Thunk_.

Harry knocked the two log halves aside with a dismal attempt at a round-house kick and placed the next one in the stump.

_Thunk_.

It was such a satisfying feeling as he felt the blade slice the block in two; heard it splinter and crack; saw it fall apart like slicing a hot knife through butter. He smiled as he remembered his first time chopping wood – he'd nearly dislocated his shoulder.

_Thunk_.

"Harry! Here you are. I've been looking all over for you."

Harry lowered the axe and looked around to see Poppy strolling down the hill toward him, dressed in her Sunday best despite the fact it was a Tuesday.

"Didn't Ewan tell you I was down here?"

"Sod told me you were in the barn,' sniffed Poppy, looking annoyed and amused at the same time.

Harry wiped sweat off his forehead. He saw Poppy's eyes flicker to his scar (she was just, if not more, curious about how he had gotten it than he was) but didn't remark on it. "You off then?"

Poppy pulled her gloves on. "I'll try not to be too long, but these WI meetings do have the tendency to carry on somewhat. Just in case I'm not there's some leftover lasagna in the refrigerator you can heat up, or if Ewan doesn't feel like that there's soup he can put on the stove, or there's…"

"Relax,' Harry chuckled, 'I can cook, you know. I'll sort something out. You just go have fun and make jam or knit blankets or whatever it is you ladies do every week."

"You sound like Ewan."

"I sound grumpy?"

Poppy giggled and waved a hand at him. "You're awful! Try to get along while I'm gone, will you? For a change."

Harry saluted and watched Poppy walk back up the hill before going back to his chopping, but his swings were only half-hearted as he kept his attention up the hill where Poppy's car was. He listened to the faint sound of an engine starting…

_Thunk_.

… followed by the sound of gravel crunching as the car backed out of the carport…

_Thunk_.

… and then finally the loud noise of gravel flying everywhere as the tires skidded on the gravel and Poppy zoomed off down the driveway and out onto the road.

He waited a few more minutes just to be safe, then dropped the axe on the grass and ran back up to the house.

The wire door sprung open without him touching it. He dashed past and went straight up the stairs, through the second door on the left and into his room. He rummaged through his top bedside drawer until he found the tiny scrap of paper he needed and then ran back downstairs again, skidding to a halt in front of the telephone.

He took the cordless off the hook and sat up on the bench, considering the number on the paper in his hand. He'd found it after a quick search on the computers at the public library two towns over. It hadn't been hard, all he'd had to do was type in the name and it came up instantly. Anticipation and excitement mingled in his guts, churning them into knots, and before he lost his nerve he punched in the number with his thumb and lifted the phone to his ear.

It seemed to ring forever, but in reality was only a few seconds. Harry recited the words he had been practicing over and over in his head all weekend until there was a click, then, 'Good Morning, Stonewall High School, this is Annette speaking, how may I help you?"

His voice caught in his throat for a moment. "Uh… yes, hello… I, uh…" the woman on the other end of the phone was silent, and feeling like a moron, Harry pulled himself together and cleared his throat.

"Sorry… frog in my throat,"

Annette laughed. "Not to worry, sir. Now what can I do for you today?"

"Well, I was just trying to get some information on a student who attended there."

"I see. And are you a relation?"

"Yes, I'm his cousin."

"And may I ask what this information is in regards to?"

"I'm helping him apply for a scholarship abroad – he's moving to France, you see… trying to get into a culinary school – and he needs information for his application."

"I see! Well, how exciting! But you understand that I can't disclose this information to you without seeing proper identification and a signed letter from your cousin telling us he gives us his permission to pass along private information such as his records to you…"

"That's okay, I understand,' Harry had feared this, but one step at a time. 'I was just calling to make sure you still had the information, is all, and hadn't passed it on… somewhere."

"Well that I can do for you. Name?"

"Harry Potter,"

She mumbled his name under her breath, and Harry could hear the distant clicking of keys as she entered his name into the computer. The seconds ticked by and she clicked her tongue as she waited, then 'hmm'd'.

"I'm sorry sir, but we don't have anyone by that name in our system."

Disappointment and confusion welled up in his chest. "Are you sure?"

She was silent again as she checked again, then, "Nope, sorry. I entered the name in twice. It's just 'Harry', is it? That's not short for something? Harold maybe?"

"I don't think so. No – it's just Harry."

He frowned at the floor. What was going on? Had they lost his records? Had the Dursley's demanded he be removed from the system for some reason? Or had he never even attended the school at all? If that were so then he had no leads at all. But why would the Dursley's change their mind? Surely they hadn't sent him to Smeltings with Dudley?

"Sir? Hello? Are you still there?"

"Huh? Yeah… sorry…'

"Perhaps you could check again with your cousin? Make sure this is the right school? I could do some more searching if you like. You could call back later this afternoon."

"No, that's alright. I'll look into it."

"Very well. I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. You have a good-…"

Harry didn't hear the rest of her sentence; he'd hung up and shoved the received back on its holder a split second before Ewan entered the room; the clunk of his thick boots announcing his arrival seconds before.

He looked up from the mail he was carrying and frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing,' said Harry hastily, leaping down from the bench top. 'Nothing. Just, uh…"

"Thought you were chopping up those logs."

"I am! I just… uh… came in here for some yogurt."

Ewan raised an eyebrow as Harry seized the closet thing on the bench; a tub of yogurt.

"Yogurt."

"Yeah! You know, when you have a craving…' Harry shrugged.

"Mmm-hmmm,' Ewan put the mail down; opened up the door he had just walked through and jerked his head. 'Save it for lunchtime."

Harry didn't argue. He put the yogurt in the fridge and hurried out the door, trying to ignore the feeling of eyes on his back. He had no doubt Ewan knew he was lying and felt extraordinary lucky he was getting off so lightly. Time was once Harry would have been subjected to twenty million questions, simple for going downstairs for a glass of water in the middle of the night.

Feeling elated that Ewan was slowly starting to trust him, let also guilty that he was betraying that trust by lying, Harry went back down the hill and picked up the axe, hoping some hard labor would take his mind off it. And yet, as he got back into the swing of chopping, his confusion about Stonewall came back.

Why wasn't he in their system? If he hadn't gone to Stonewall, then where? Should he call up his primary school? Maybe they would know.

_Of course_, the reluctant part of his brain chimed in, _there's always the option of just going back to Number Four and asking the Dursleys quite plainly. _

Harry shuddered. He'd call the school.

* * *

Harry arrived at the front door of Hamish's tiny flat three days later. He let himself in and went straight through to the kitchen, following the aroma of something delicious frying. And sure enough…

"Look at this shite,' Hamish threw a mushroom at the newspaper sprawled out on the bench, 'four nill. What kind of a game is that, I ask you? How these twats can be called 'professionals' when all they do is cock it up I'll never know."

Harry sat down at the bench, pushing aside the ingredients for omelets to read the paper upside down. "Celtic lost again?"

Hamish scoffed and turned back to his fry pan. "I need to get myself on the phone to their blood coach. Give the man some pointers."

"Of course you do."

"I don't know why I still support them."

"Because you look so good in their colors?"

Hamish looked down at his football jersey and smiled. "It does bring out the green in my eyes. Pass me the cheese, would you?"

Harry pushed the desired bowl over and turned the paper around so he could read it properly. He smiled inwardly; it was nice not to squint and strain his eyes.

"I figure Poppy's already fed you but hey, who can turn down culinary genius like this? Besides, you're gonna need all the energy you can get. My attic's a complete and utter shambles. Even my Mum won't go up there, and she cleans for a living."

Only half listening, Harry murmured. He was preoccupied by the tiny little article about a woman claiming she had seen a car flying over her house three days ago, and that she would have thought she was completely insane except for the fact that she'd read about ten or so people seeing the same peculiar sight five or six years ago, and wandered if it were some sort of government conspiracy. There was a number you could call at the bottom if you wished to make a likewise statement. Harry wondered how many crazy people would actually use it.

"Since when do you wear glasses?"

Harry looked up. Hamish was looking at him quizzically. "Oh, uh… I've always had these."

"I'll say it again – since when do you wear them?"

"Since now."

"Are you going for that geeky-adorable look? 'Cause it's working."

"You know, sometimes I wonder about you."

Harry ducked as Hamish threw another mushroom at his head.

In no time at all they had eaten Hamish's omelets, sculled two glasses of chocolate milk between them and were standing under the hatch in the ceiling that led up to the attic. Harry stood back as Hamish reached up for the little cord.

"Should we be wearing hazmat suits for this? I feel like I'm about to walk into a contaminated area."

"You are about to walk into a contaminated area. But the only thing you need to worry about is the dust bunnies."

"Dust bunnies?"

The trap door swung open and a long wooden ladder unfolded, falling at Harry's feet. He frowned down at the steps, feeling an odd sensation.

"Whoa,' he muttered, 'déjà vu."

"What's that?"

"That… that thing…' Harry gestured at the hole in the ceiling, 'I've seen that somewhere before."

Harry could feel Hamish's stare as he climbed up the ladder. "Well sure. These attic things, lots of people have them."

"Yeah I know, but it's different than that. It's like… I've _done_ this before."

The attic was nothing but dark shadows and the smell of dust, until Hamish flicked a switch on the wall and the two tiny light bulbs emitted a faint glow, showing just how dank the room was. Hamish hadn't been exaggerating; the room was a shambles. Boxes were stacked everywhere, the description of their contents barely decipherable under the thick layer of dust.

Hamish coughed, thumping his chest with his fist. "Maybe you had one at your old place, and you were less of a neglectful tosser like me and went up in your attic a lot to clean it."

This was, of course, the most logical explanation. What wasn't logical was why Harry expected to see a fireplace and was disappointed when he found there wasn't one. After all, who had fireplaces in their _attic_?

"Let's see… duster, vacuum, gloves, dishcloths… ah shite, I forgot the broomstick. Would you be a sweetheart and go downstairs and get it? Harry? Hello?"

Harry looked around. Hamish was frowning at him. "Sorry, what?"

"The broomstick. Can you go get it for me?"

"Oh, uh… yeah. Be right back."

It was in the hallway cupboard, tucked away neatly in the corner – exactly the same place it had been put the day Hamish bought it, Harry guessed. It was nothing special, as basic as a broom could get. It's only outstanding feature was its red handle.

Harry retrieved it and held it out horizontal in front of him. There was that feeling again, that déjà vu, that expectance… only he didn't know what he was waiting for. It was a _broomstick_. What was he expecting it to do, clean by itself?

He shook his head and tried to ignore how inexplicably _right_ it felt to be holding it. Of course it felt right. He'd been cleaning the Dursleys house for as long as he could remember. Cleaning utensils were like extensions of his limbs.

He must be going batty. He couldn't even blame all this nonsense on watching too many cartoons; he'd never been allowed to, and the only time he'd ever really seen any were when he snuck looks into Dudley's room as he walked past.

He guessed he had an odd expression on his face, because when he got back up to the attic Hamish was looking at him with concern.

"Are you about to have some sort of seizure? What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know, I'm just…"

Hamish took the broom and handed Harry a duster. "Here, you start with the easy stuff. I don't want your brain to explode."

But dusting, it turned out, only seemed to make his brain feel more frazzled. Something about the movement of the duster in his hand, the way his wrist rolled, how he swished and flicked…

Harry threw the duster to the floor. "I can't do this."

"Well alright, geez. No need to chuck shit around."

"I'm sorry, it's just…" Harry ran his hands through his hair, making it stick up in even more weird angles.

Hamish put the broom down and crossed over to him in two long strides. "You right? What's wrong? Are you Claustrophobic?"

"No. I don't know, maybe. I can't remember."

"Alright. Just calm down."

Harry realized what he must have looked like, pacing around in a tight circle, his eyes wide and his shoulders stiff. Seeing how worried Hamish was forced him to calm himself down. He didn't want to seem like anymore of a crazy idiot.

"Sorry. I'm okay. It's just something about this… all of this… the broom and the duster…"

"Is it triggering memories? You seeing stuff? Does it feel familiar?"

"Yes. I don't know why, but when I picked up the broom it's like this sort of thrill went down my spine – like it meant I was about to do something with it other than sweep. My whole body tensed like I was ready to run somewhere. I felt… _excited_. And the duster, I felt like I should be talking or singing while I did it."

Hamish quirked an eyebrow.

Harry sighed. "Look I know it sounds stupid, but it's the only way I can explain it."

"Don't worry, I understand. And there's a simple explanation for all of this, I believe."

"Oh I can't wait to hear this."

"You were a cleaner."

Harry stared at him.

"Or a chimney sweep?' added Hamish with a grin.

"Nice to know you think so highly of me."

"Oi! Don't go badmouthing the sweeps, alright? My great granddaddy was one. It's a lucrative business. Someone has to get up those flu's, and let's face it, you're enough of a twig to fit up there. You wouldn't even need to take a brush, just use your hair – looks like you already did, actually."

"I was not a chimneysweep!"

"How do you know? Why else would you have such a hard-on for broomsticks and dusters?"

Harry kicked over the mop bucket. "I just wish I could remember!' he snarled.

It was maddening. His phone call to his hold primary school had revealed nothing. They had a note about some school for criminally uncontrollable boys he couldn't remember the name of. Harry had wondered what had prompted Uncle Vernon to choose such a school – like he couldn't guess, but as far as he knew he wasn't a juvenile delinquent. He'd entertained the possibility that the reason he had ended up at the McCluskeys was that he'd escaped from the school and was on the run, but surely his name would have shown up in some sort of police file when the reported him missing. Harry had called them anyway, but they hadn't been able to find him in their computer system either, which left him back at square one.

Did he still live with the Dursleys at this age? Was he still cleaning every single inch of the house while Aunt Petunia, living the life of leisure, barked at him for his mediocre work? Had he developed some sort of Stockholm syndrome where he didn't want to leave anymore? Or was he really some cleaning guy, working in a hotel, trying to scrape by on a minimum wage while living in a flat somewhere in London?

Hamish clapped Harry on the back. The tiny gesture was oddly soothing. "Relax, brother. You'll figure it all out in time. You just need to be patient… and out of reach of breakable things."

Now that his confusion and anger was wearing away, Harry was beginning to feel more and more embarrassed. When had he become the sort to throw tantrums like this?

"Let's get back to cleaning, yeah?' Hamish patted Harry encouragingly on the shoulder. 'Brightside… if you really were some sort of cleaning person then this whole exercise should turn out a lot better than I'd expected. Unless you wanna go back downstairs and have a moment."

"I don't need a moment,' said Harry quickly, blushing furiously. 'It's only cleaning for God's sake."

Hamish laughed and handed him the broom back. "Go start in that corner."

Harry was surprised to find that the more cleaning he did, the less the familiar feeling seemed to bug him. It was like a sort of meditation that calmed his mind, like a point on the wall he could focus on until everything else faded out. Hamish had brought a radio upstairs and the scratchy reception was like white noise, background music to their work and Hamish's almost one-sided conversation.

He found himself going over his few memories again as he dusted, trying to find that one key moment that might indicate why he was feeling this way; why his skin itched and his arm felt like an electrical current was running through it, trying to burst out through his fingertips. It was only while he moved though, which was the strange thing. If he kept his arm still, he felt nothing. It was only when he waved it around, when his wrist rolled and his fingers tensed…

"… or maybe a Janitor?' Hamish was still talking, clearly not noticing that Harry was only half-listening. 'Janitors clean and fix things, right? Maybe that's why you've been mysteriously fixing all that stuff at the farm."

"I haven't been fixing anything!"

"You sleepwalk?"

Harry only just resisted hitting his head with the palm of his hand.

"_I do not sleepwalk_."

"Well how do you know? You're asleep. Has anyone watched you?"

"I don't sleepwalk, I don't blackout, and I don't lie.'

"Never said you were a liar!"

"Just drop it, Hamish, alright?' Harry threw him a final look over his shoulder. 'I clean – big whoop. I'm just domesticated, is all that probably is. I'm not a slob like most blokes."

Hamish smiled and went back to his sweeping. "That or you've seen that movie _Fantasia_ one too many times."

"How'd you mean?"

"You know; that cartoon where Mickey Mouse is a wizard or something? He puts spells on all the broomsticks and pots and pans and stuff and they clean up, but it all goes haywire, and then the older, better wizard shows up and puts it all right again. You haven't seen it?"

Harry's whole body seemed to go numb. He hadn't seen the movie – he'd never been allowed anywhere near the living room when Dudley was watching videos – and it hadn't been the mention of Mickey Mouse that had made his head spin. Something was nagging at him at the back of his brain, something dying to come forward and reveal itself, and after a long moment that seemed like an eternity, it broke through. One single sentence.

_Harry – yer a wizard. _

It repeated itself, over and over like a broken record. _Yer a wizard Yer a wizard Yer a wizard Yer a wizard Yer a wizard…_

The accent was cockney, rough, the voice deep and enormous. Harry remembered the smell of sea air and the noise of a storm and a pink umbrella…

"I have to go,' he remarked weakly, throwing the duster down and clambering toward the manhole.

He was halfway down the ladder before Hamish seemed to realize what was going on, and on the ground before he heard him trying to call Harry back. He ignored Hamish and ran through the house and out the front door, leaving it wide open in his wake.

He ran down the street, forgoing the bus stop and instead heading the long way into town. It was like every step he took, every time his shoes slapped against the pavement, another tiny detail would come flooding back to him. Letters coming through the Dursley's chimney… listening with Dudley through a keyhole to his Aunt and Uncle arguing about something… being moved into Dudley's second bedroom in hopes "_they"_ wouldn't find him…

Although his lungs were burning and his legs were shaking he kept running, running toward his past, like a train hurtling toward its destination. People were leaping out of his way and casting him scandalized looks as he barged past them but he didn't care. More and more images, smells and sounds were coming back to him. A tiny shack in the middle of the ocean… the smell of salt water and the howling of wind… a door being beaten down and a giant of a man entering the hut… he knew if he just kept running he would get there, get to the crucial moment he knew was just out of his reach.

Harry skidded to a halt out the front of the butchers. He stood there, gasping for breath as his inner eye admired the enormous man, his beard as shaggy as his clothes, a pink umbrella clutched in one of his giant hands, his friendly smile as he handed Harry a package – a chocolate birthday cake with "_Happy Birthday Harry_" written with green icing.

"Hagrid,' Harry breathed, grinning from ear to ear.

_Rubeus Hagrid_. Harry's chest filled with warmth as he remembered him, remembered the smell of his moleskin coat he wore and the heavy thunk his boots made every time he took a step. He remembered him yelling at the Dursleys, the first person ever to not only smile at Harry as if happy to see him, to not only give him a birthday present or speak to him like an equal, but to come to his defense against his relatives; to express his outrage that Harry had been kept in the dark about who and what he really was.

_A Wizard. _

It was like a light clicked on somewhere and relief flooded through him. It was like finally remembering where you had seen someone in a movie before after you'd been wracking your brain for days trying to figure it out. He was a wizard. His parents had been wizards. They had attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry just like he was meant to.

"Are you going in?"

Harry blinked. An elderly lady was holding the door to the shop open, watching him expectantly.

"Oh, er… no. Not today. But thank you."

The old woman rolled her eyes and muttered something about kids today, but Harry, who had already began to walk off, didn't hear.

Everything was starting to made sense now; how his chores would get done so quickly, how things would mysterious be fixed without him having anything to do with it. Only he did, didn't he? He knew that now. It had been him all along, using magic – something, it seemed, he must have been outrageously good at to do it without even realizing. What else could he do? He wondered. He wanted to try some magic spells out, but couldn't remember any. His time at Hogwarts (which he gathered had happened, by some miracle) was so far a blank.

Feeling elated and excited, Harry walked the ten minutes to the next bus stop to wait for the next service. Despite his disappointment, for he knew he couldn't tell Poppy, Ewan or Hamish that he was a wizard, he felt accomplished and happy and more settled within himself. It was, after all, a huge relief to know he didn't spend his days at the Dursley's cleaning the house day after day. Maybe he worked in a shop, selling potion ingredients to fellow wizards? Maybe he did exorcisms, using magic to evict pesky poltergeist from people's homes? What _did_ wizards do for jobs anyway? The only professions he knew of were Teachers and Hogwarts Gatekeeper, and he was obviously too young to do either.

He boarded the bus minutes later. Sitting down up the back he leant his head against the window; it was cool against his scar. In the back of his mind he resolved to call Hamish later an apologize for being such a dramatic berk, but first he was going straight home and locking himself in his room.

He was going to remember this Hogwarts and everything he could about being a wizard, even if it made his brain explode.

* * *

A/N - Don't worry… there's more coming hopefully soon!


	51. Chapter 50

There was a soft rap on Harry's door.

"Harry? It's time for dinner. _Sheppard's Pie_…' Poppy's voice sand tantalizingly.

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Down in a minute."

He waited until he heard Poppy disappear back downstairs before he resumed folding his clothes. He'd hoped it would take longer than this. It usually did. He hated doing laundry, and time usually made a mockery of him by slowing down considerably, making it seem like he was folding for hours. Tonight, however, it seemed to take sadistic pleasure in doing the opposite – speeding up and seemingly taking minutes when he wanted to drag the chore out as long as he could. So in what seemed no time at all he was rolling up his last pair of socks and adding them to the pile on the end of his bed.

He put his hands on his hips and glared at them. It was an odd feeling he was experiencing. Half of him was dreading going downstairs to have this conversation, but the other half of him was roaring impatiently, eagerly awaiting it to be all over.

He looked at his desk instinctively, but was not surprised to see no cage containing a white snowy owl there. Hedwig always seemed to be the first one he touched base with at times like these, and he was missing her soft hoot of encouragement. For not the first time today he wondered where she was and if she was alright.

"Harry! Hurry up before Ewan steals all your Garlic Bread!"

"What? Don't tell him you mad woman!"

With a sigh, feeling unable to delay any longer, Harry headed downstairs.

They were both in their usual spots at the dining table, seated across from each other so as to better see each other as they talked during dinner. Harry flopped into his regular seat at the end of the table and picked at his food, only to douse any suspicion Poppy might develop that something was awry with him.

"Did you fix the fence down in paddock eight?' Ewan asked.

Harry barely swallowed his food to answer when Poppy interrupted.

"No, we are not talking about fences or engines or hay prices or anything to do with work tonight,' she gave both of them a look. 'I'm beginning to wonder if the two of you can talk about anything else! We're having a nice family dinner and talking about nice family things."

Ewan murmured in submission. Harry caught his eye and gave a small nod. Ewan's mustache twitched.

"Like what?' proposed Harry; he tried to ignore the churning of his gut at the family reference.

"Well…' she chewed her lamb slowly, mulling over it. 'What's this about Hamish and Amanda courting one another?"

"They're not _courting_. He got her number, is all. And it's not courting, it's dating."

"Same thing,' Poppy waved her hand dismissively.

"An expert, are you?' asked Ewan.

Harry's face burned. "It's just a phone number."

"If the useless cad had any respect he'd've gone and asked her father first before being so ostentatious and forward."

"Hamish is not a cad,' chuckled Poppy, taking the Garlic Bread away from her husband, who was reaching for his third slice to add to his place, and handing it to Harry. 'He's a lovely boy. Kids just do things differently nowadays. It's not like he's asking her to marry him… yet."

"God help the girl he claps eyes on that brings out that urge in him,' grumbled Ewan.

"Especially if she'll be cleaning his house,' added Harry.

Poppy laughed as she passed Harry the bottle of wine. "How did that go anyway? Did you finish his attic?"

Harry's arm tingled again as he remembered moving the duster around, just like he used to practice his Levitation Charm in Professor Flitwick's class. Swish and Flick. Not that he'd known that at the time.

"Not exactly. I got… er, hayfever. The dust, you know."

"That bad up there, was it?"

"Lazy sod,' Ewan shook his head. 'If he spent more time worrying about his affairs and less time about the pretty girls in every village within a hundred miles he'd have a house to be proud of."

Poppy threw a bread roll at him. "Stop being so judgmental. Have you ever been inside Hamish's flat? Do you even know where he lives?"

"No need. I've seen his truck."

"Which automatically makes you an expert on his personal life?' Poppy pursed her lips. 'I think I preferred you droning on about cows."

Ewan smirked at her.

Harry felt sad watching them eat, listening to them pass around banter, feeling their warm presence. The seconds stretched by and he knew he had to do this tonight; he'd been putting it off for four days now, but the longer he thought about them and remembered how much they had done for him and how much he had come to care about them…

"Don't play with your food, Harry, for goodness sake,' Poppy pointed at his plate. His baked potatoes were now a pile of mush. 'What's wrong? Not hungry?"

"Kinda."

"Do you want something else? I thought you liked roast lamb."

"I do. It's just…'

This was it. This was his chance. They were both looking at him expectantly but patiently.

"I have to talk to you about something."

"You didn't fix the fence?'

"Put a sock in it, will you? Ignore him, Harry – what's wrong?"

Harry reached into his shirt and pulled out the tiny gold necklace. He ran this thumb over the front, feeling the tiny little 'S' beneath. He'd been wearing it the night he'd arrived but had taken it straight off the next day after discovering there was nothing in it. It was old and tarnished and junk and he'd had such an aversion to it he'd stuffed it underneath his mattress. He couldn't bear to throw it away; it had been one of the only things he had to connect him to his old life, despite the way it gave him goosebumps.

He put his fork down and sat up straight. "I was wondering if I could have this weekend off."

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, I'm not sick."

"What's your reasoning then?' asked Ewan.

"I want to go to London."

"Long drive. What for?"

"I've remembered some stuff."

The only sound to break the sudden, tense silence was the tiny clink as Poppy put her fork back down on her plate.

She beamed at him. "Oh, Harry! That's wonderful news!"

"Since when?' asked Ewan.

"Just in the last couple of days,' he blushed, hating to lie, but knowing now was not the time to get into an argument. 'Nothing really significant, but I've seen images of places and I remember names, and I want to go there and see where it leads me."

"Well you don't have to travel two hours to London to do that, Harry,' Poppy's eyes were already welling up. 'You can make a few phonecalls, look up things on the computers in town…"

"I've already tried."

"Have you now?' demanded Ewan.

Harry frowned. "Really? Are you _really_ going to get angry at me for looking into things from my own past?"

"You've been keeping secrets. Why didn't you tell Poppy or I that you remembered something?"

He didn't want to say, 'Because I was afraid you'd throw me out onto the street', and he tried to think of something he could say just to fill the silence, but he didn't have to in the end.

"Does it matter?' snapped Poppy. 'The important thing is he's remembering. After a month of nothing! I suspect he didn't want to say anything until he was sure – isn't that right?'

She looked at Harry. He nodded quickly.

"It got me nowhere,' he admitted, more to Ewan. 'I remembered my primary school, and they gave me the number of the high school I was listed to be attending, but they didn't have me on their system, so the trail went cold. Simply calling people isn't good enough. I need to show people my face, see if they recognize me from anywhere…"

"Well what are you going to do then, mmm? Just wonder around the country, showing them your mug?"

"Ewan, stop it!" Poppy turned her glare away from her husband and looked at Harry; the harsh expression vanished instantly. "Where are you going to start?"

"Hyde Park. I have memories of being there."

This, of course, wasn't true. But it was the only large location he could think of that wouldn't be stretching the truth too far. He was headed for Charing Cross road, and the Leaky Cauldron. It was the only wizarding location he could remember other than Hogwarts, and not knowing how to get to Hogwarts and it not being September the first when students would all be gathering at Kings Cross Station for him to enquire with people there, he was going to start there first. Maybe there would be someone in Diagon Alley that remembered him.

"And how do you know its Hyde Park?' demanded Ewan. 'You could be imagining any park in the entire country."

"I saw it in a newspaper a week ago and recognized it. I'll be back within forty two hours,' he added when they looked unconvinced.

"Harry… I understand that you want to explore this further and I… no, _we_ fully support you…' Poppy threw another look at Ewan, 'but I'd feel much more comfortable if one of us went with you."

"Don't be daft. You both can't just up and leave."

"The hell I can't,' said Ewan. 'This is my farm and I decide when and why I do or do not work. You think we're gonna let you go galavanting off by yourself then forget it."

"I'm eighteen, I'm not a baby. I can go into the city by myself for a day or two."

He hadn't meant for it to sound so petulant, but Ewan seemed to be the only one to notice his tone. Poppy was looking at him, her eyes slightly narrowed.

"You're eighteen?"

Harry nodded. It was close enough. Technically his eighteenth birthday wasn't for another two months, but they didn't need to know that. He felt that stab of guilt again, adding on another lie on top of the mountain he was already creating, but pushed it aside.

"But you're so…' she held her hands up vertically, keeping an inch between them, and then moved them downward, '… _slight_."

"I was born nineteen eighty, I remember that."

Ewan's voice was crisp. "Take Hamish with you."

"Hamish can't get the time off work. I don't want to take him anyway; I don't want to take anyone. I want to do this on my own."

Ewan frowned, the lines in his face becoming more prominent. He got to his feet, grabbed his plate and cutlery and left.

Harry felt guilt wash over him. He knew Ewan was going to eat in his study – something he only did when he was in a particular mood, and Harry felt awful for pushing him to this point. But a hand closed over his and he looked around to see Poppy smiling at him.

"Don't worry,' she said, as if reading his mind, 'he'll be okay. He's not angry with you."

"Could have fooled me,"

Poppy squeezed his hand. "Go to London. Find out what you need to. We'll be here when you get back.

It was as simple as that. Harry smiled at her, not sure how to say thank you, but figured eating every scrap of food she had cooked for him would be a good start.

* * *

The first thing Harry noticed when the wooden door creaked open was the smell.

It was dust, alcohol, smoke and wood, and it invaded his nostrils before he could exhale against it. The light was dim, and it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust. It was as dark and shabby as he remembered, but still possessing a warmth that invited him in out of the doorway and toward the bar a few feet away in front of him.

He let the door swing closed behind him and looked around as he took tentative steps toward the bar. It was relatively empty; there were two middle aged wizards sitting in the booth nearest the large staircase, muttering over a large bowl filled with glowing yellow liquid, another young witch over by the window, enjoying a drink while watching London pass by, and another two witches coming down the stairs, holding a pair of robes in their arms and talking gleefully about the woven patterns.

Harry turned his attention away from them to the bald barman, who had his back turned.

"Uh… excuse me?"

"Jus' a second lad.'

After a few tiny squeaks, the barman put down the glass he was cleaning and turned to Harry. His expression changed from curiosity, to shock, and then to indifference, as if he suddenly remembered, himself in such quick succession Harry almost missed it.

"Yes?' he said, his voice shaking a bit.

"You're Tom, right? The owner?"

"For all intents and purposes, yeah,' Tom leant on the bar, studying Harry's face, and then his scar.

Harry ruffled his hair. "Look, this is probably gonna sound barmy, but I was wondering if you had some sort of… wizard phone book."

Tom frowned. "A what book?"

"A ph-… uh, address book?"

"You mean one of those things muggles have lying around with everyone's personal information in 'em for every layabout to be looking at?' Tom scoffed. 'We don't have nothing like that here. Wizards have more sense than to be advertising their whereabouts to anyone and everyone… 'specially after…'

He trailed off, cleared his throat, and said no more.

Harry sighed, feeling the small flicker of hope die within him. He hadn't really expected Wziards to have anything like the muggle phonebook where a person's contact details and address could be found simply by turning a few pages. He certainly hadn't expected it to be that easy… but it would have been nice.

He knocked on the bar with a tight-lipped smile. "Okay, thank you anyway."

"Wait a minute! Hold on!"

Harry was halfway to the door when Tom called him. He spun around. Tom looked a little desperate.

"Who are you looking for? Oh no, I'm not bein' nosy, I swear,' he added hastily, seeing Harry's reluctance. 'I see all sorts coming through 'ere, heading for the Alley,' he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. 'Tell me who you're after and I migh' be able to help you."

Warning bells sounded in the back of Harry's mind. The Barman's emotions were all over the place. One minute he was guarded and careful, the next he seemed almost desperate to talk to Harry. Tom was leaning on the bar, as if he were about to run after Harry but had only just managed to stop himself.

But he was feeling pretty desperate himself. Although he could only remember meeting him the once, Harry was sure Tom knew him more than just the usual 'There's Harry Potter' response he received from most wizards he'd met.

"Ron Weasley?"

Tom's jaw clenched and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"He's about…' Harry paused, not sure how tall Ron was anymore, '… uh, well… he has red hair…"

"I know 'im."

"You do?"

Tom chuckled. "Everyone knows 'em. Weasley's are pretty well known. You, er… friends at Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded. Tom's toothless grin only widened. At a speed Harry would not have expected from him, Tom moved around the bar, grabbed Harry by the shoulder and guided him over to the roaring fireplace. He reached into a large glass jar on the mantle, grabbed a handful of what looked to be gravel or soot, and threw it into the fire, turning the flames green.

"In you go."

"I'm sorry?"

Tom's expression fell. "Oh, bloody hell… you don't know…"

"No, I know.' Harry said quickly. 'Of course I know."

Harry examined the green bonfire, feeling nervous. Was he really just supposed to step into them? Obviously this was a common mode of transportation for Wizards from Tom's casual prompting, and was something he had no doubt done dozens of times to get around. Not wanting to let on that he couldn't remember, Harry clenched his jaw, leant down and stepped onto the logs.

The second his sneaker touched the log he knew he'd done the right thing, and he quickly turned around to face the pub. Tom was smiling at him as he placed the jar back above the fire.

"Right, now you're looking for The Burrow."

"The Burrow?"

Before he knew what was happening the pub and Tom disappeared in a whirl of green, and he was suddenly spinning out of control like on a carousel in overdrive. Fireplaces where whirling around in front of him, flashing images of peoples living rooms and bedrooms and study's. It was like being sucked down a drainpipe; and Harry tucked his elbows in and kept his body tense incase he hit something.

Then suddenly he was pitched forward and he landed face down on something hard.

"Ow,' he groaned, pushing himself up on his elbows.

There was a rustle somewhere to his right, and then, 'Harry?"

Harry looked up at a pair of denim clad legs, then up to an orange t-shirt, then further up to see a familiar, freckled face smiling down at him, and Harry felt his chest tingle.

"_Ron_?"

Ron laughed, grabbed Harry by the back of his shirt and pulled him to his feet, and Harry couldn't help it – he stared.

Intellectually he understood that Ron would not look the same as he remembered him to be. There was almost an eight year gap between his latest memory and the present day. He knew Ron would be different and taller and older, but he was still shocked. Ron towered over him. His features were sharper and more defined. There was a copper tinge running along his jaw and over his chin and top lip. His teeth even looked different as he smiled down at Harry, looking happy to see him, but not surprised.

Harry groaned and stumbled forward as Ron clapped him hard on the back.

"Good to see you, mate! Sorry about the grate there… been meaning to fix it. That first step is a doozy!"

"What the hell just happened?"

Ron dusted flakes of soot from Harry's shoulders. "Floo Powder. Where'd you come from?"

"The Leaky Cauldron."

Something akin to triumph flashes in Ron's eyes. "Good. That's good. No trouble then I take it? Here, give me your jacket, come sit down."

Harry let Ron wrestle his denim jacket from his shoulders and followed him through to the kitchen. The two seconds he'd spent admiring his surroundings he could already tell this house was polar opposite to the Dursleys'. Nothing matched and everything seemed to be out of place – two things Aunt Petunia prized most in a household.

He loved it instantly.

"So, tea?"

"Yeah, uh…"

"White with one. Yeah,' Ron poked the kettle with his wand and smiled at Harry over his shoulder, 'I remember."

Harry gave a tight lipped smile. That made one of them.

"I was sure we had some biscuits around here someplace. Hang on, maybe they're behind here…"

Harry watched as Ron rifled through the pantry, his big frame just visible from the doors. It all seemed so surreal. Ron was acting as though he'd only seen him just yesterday, but obviously that wasn't true. Although he couldn't remember it, from the casual, easy way Ron was around him, obviously they were good friends. But then if that were the case, why hadn't Ron come looking for him? Was Ron just humoring him?

"Ah!' Ron cried out in victory and placed a tin on the bench in front Harry. 'Try at least three of those. One to rock your world, one to reassure you that yes, you did just taste that wonder, and the last just to be a greedy wanker."

"Thank you."

"Mum'll be glad to know you're here, I can tell you. And if she finds out I didn't feed you the second you set foot out of the fireplace she'll have my head."

"Where are your parents?" He only vaguely remembered the plump woman from platform nine and three quarters, ushering her children onto the train.

"Visiting… uh, friends. Oh, bugger!' Harry jumped as Ron hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. 'Friends!"

Ron dashed back into the living room, Harry hot on his heels. He was feeling very confused. He didn't remember Ron being like this.

"Ron?"

"Just a second mate,'

"But…"

"I just gotta Floo someone for a tick…"

Harry grabbed Ron by the arm. "Ron! Just… just wait a second."

Ron raised his eyebrows, his fist full of the same powder that Tom the Inn Keeper had just used to transport Harry to his current location.

"I'm sorry,' Harry said, letting Ron go. 'It's just… this is all going a bit too fast. One minute I'm standing in a pub, then the next thing I'm whirling around like I'm going down the plughole of a bathtub then I end up here and you're talking like…' He stopped, realizing he was rambling and cleared his throat, feeling very embarrassed. 'We're friends, right? I get that. But I just don't really remember. Can we just… sit down?"

Ron's ears flushed red. "You're right. Sorry, mate. I'm just… just really happy to see you, you know? It's been a while."

"A month?"

"Thirty four days,' Ron smiled ruefully, 'but who's counting?"

Harry didn't get a chance to ask why he'd been counting. Ron lead him back into the kitchen and sat down with him, this time looking sober and calm for the first time since he'd arrived.

"S'pose it's all a bit overwhelming for you, yeah?' Ron asked, nodding to himself as if answering his own question. 'What do you remember?"

Harry frowned. How did Ron know he had memory loss?"

"We're friends, we go to Hogwarts together, we're in Gryffindor…' Harry shrugged. 'That's about it."

Ron nodded, looking slightly amused. "That's probably about all there is."

Harry very much doubted it.

Ron considered him for a moment with an expression Harry figured he could have read once as easily as he could read a ten high sign.

"So we're seventh years now?"

"No, actually… we're graduated."

"Really? So we can do proper magic and everything?"

Ron grinned at Harry's excited tone. Harry felt even more embarrassed. He hadn't meant to sound so eager, but the thought of doing spells was exhilarating, despite the fact that he couldn't really remember any.

"I don't suppose you have my wand, do you?' Harry asked.

Ron opened his mouth to answer, but didn't get the chance.

"Ron, have you seen my Potions book? This bloody essay is busting my ass and Pig isn't back so I can't owl…'

Harry looked around as a girl with long red hair entered the room. She stopped mid-sentence; her eyes were wide and staring right at him. She was tall, thin and pretty and not wearing much at all, just a pair of shorts and a singlet and he had a vague feeling of recognition and knew he knew her from somewhere.

Ron was on his feet quickly. "Look in my cupboard, I think I have a spare one in there. Ginny, you remember Harry?"

Ginny's face went exceptionally red.

"Harry, this is my baby sister, Ginny."

An image of the day Harry first met the Weasley's popped into his head, and he suddenly remembered. "Oh yeah, I remember you."

Ginny's lip trembled. "You… you do?"

"Yeah, you were at the station when we were all leaving for first year. You chased the train down the platform,' he chuckled.

She frowned and threw a glance at Ron, who shrugged. "Uh… yes. Yes that was me."

For a long moment she stood there, and Harry realized she was expecting him to say something else, but she seemed to remember herself and began backing out of the room.

"Sorry, I just… yeah, Ron, I'll look… um, excuse me…'

And with that, she dashed out of sight.

Harry turned back to Ron, feeling very confused. Ron was watching the spot his sister had just been occupying, looking… sympathetic? Harry didn't even know Ron knew what the word meant.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No, uh…' Ron laughed, ruffling his hair. 'She's just… not used to you. You're a big celebrity and all. You remember that, right?" he added as an afterthought.

"How Voldemort killed my parents?'

Harry was surprised when Ron didn't flinch. He remembered everyone flinching at the name, especially Ron. But he gave no other response other than an encouraging nod.

"Yeah. I remember. I mean, I don't remember it happening, but I know the story.' He felt rude for asking, but couldn't help himself. 'You know I have amnesia? How?"

"I'm your best friend, I know everything about you,' Ron joked.

His attitude only made Harry feel more frustrated.

"No you don't. You don't know where I've been for the past month, do you?"

"Well, no…"

"Do you want to?" His voice sounded harsher than he meant.

"Course I do, but…"

"Look, I only came here because other than Hagrid you're the only wizard I remember,' Harry admitted, feeling stupid. 'You don't just need to be polite, giving me tea and biscuits and letting me ramble and all."

Ron looked alarmed. "What? No, it's not like that. I want you here! You're my best friend."

His voice was thick with emotion, and Harry lost his train of thought for a moment.

"I mean, er… 'Ron trailed off, looking awkward. His ears went red, and the sight of him looking so uncomfortable was so recognizable Harry almost smiled – so this was Ron, after all.

"Don't you want to know where I've been?" he asked finally.

"More than anything,' Ron nodded, 'but I made a promise… I told her I wouldn't…' He paused, looking back at the fireplace before continuing. 'I wanna know everything that's happened with you, and I wanna explain everything that's been happening with me… but I promised that I wouldn't talk about it until all three of us were together."

Harry frowned. "Three?"

Ron's eyes widened slightly, and he looked simultaneously surprised and disappointed. "Hermione Granger."

"What about her?'

Ron jerked his head, indicating Harry should follow. They went back into the living room, and with a jab of his wand, Ron said '_Incendio'_ and the fireplace burst into life. He smiled. "Still can't quite get the hang of non-verbal spells… unless I'm being chased by spiders or something."

"We're friends with Hermione Granger?"

"What's the very last thing you remember?"

"A bloody great big dog with three heads nearly ripping us to shreds, and Hermione Granger practically telling us we're masochistic berks."

Ron smiled, nodded and threw the powder into the fire, turning the flames green. "Hermione? You there?"

"Just a second!' a girls voice echoed from the fireplace. 'I'm trying that potion again… I can't quite get it to go that pale shade of yellow…"

"Just put it down for a second, yeah?"

"Ron, this is important!"

Harry recognized that bossy tone.

"More important that your scruffy-haired best friend?"

There was a long pause. Harry looked at Ron, who was smirking. Suddenly there was a loud 'crack', and Harry suddenly had bushy hair in his face and arms wrapped around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly.

"Oh, Harry!'

Ron, apparently seeing Harry's expression, smiled and stepped forward to put a hand on her shoulder. "Alright, that's enough! Let the man breathe, you crazy bint."

She stepped back, and Harry finally got to look at her properly.

The first thing he noticed was her smile – and not just because her teeth were different. She was beaming at him with a warmth he couldn't ever remember feeling from her. The only emotions he remembered getting were irritancy and impatience.

"Hello,' he said cautiously.

Hermione's expression faded. "Oh dear. You don't remember me, do you?"

"I do,' Harry frowned, trying to recall any moment where the two of them could have become good friends. He came up with nothing.

"When did you get here?' she asked, but Harry had a feeling the question was more directed at Ron.

So it was no surprise when he answered, 'Just five minutes ago. Came whirling out of the fireplace, tripped and landed like a prat,' he chuckled.

Hermione scowled. "I told you, you need to fix that grate."

"I can't do everything around here!' he snapped. 'This isn't even my house. I'd like to hear you go tell Dad to fix it with that tone."

"I wouldn't need to tell your Dad to fix anything, he remembers all by himself."

"My favorite part of the day: you calling me brainless."

"Did I say anything of the sort?"

"Might as well have!"

Harry was so distracted by the pair of them that it took him a moment to realize why he was shaking – he was laughing. The sound seemed to break Ron and Hermione out of their glaring match, as they turned to him, looking surprised.

"Sorry,' Harry chuckled, trying to compose himself. 'I'm sorry."

"Doesn't look like it,' Ron smirked.

Harry laughed again, feeling much better than he had since he arrived. He couldn't remember moment, couldn't see scenarios, but he could feel how familiar this was; the three of them, standing together like this. Ron and Hermione's bickering felt more familiar to him than anything in the world, and he wished he could remember why but for the first time didn't really mind.

"Let's sit down, shall we?' Hermione led them into the kitchen.

"She knows the way around your house?' Harry muttered.

Ron smiled. "Been here enough, hasn't she?"

Harry wished he knew.

He felt uneasy as they all sat down. Hermione was beaming at him in the same way Ron had – like finding a long lost relative after so many years – but she seemed a little more under control of it, of which Harry was glad.

"So… we're friends?' Harry asked, quickly losing his ability to care about tact or manners. He wanted to know everything, and now. 'You two are friends? Last thing I remember you were calling her mental and she was glaring at you like she wanted to jab a quill in your eye."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and laughed.

"Well that hasn't changed,' Ron chuckled, 'but yeah... we're friends. All of us."

"Do you remember our first Halloween at Hogwarts?' Hermione probed, looking hopeful.

Harry thought about it, and like every time he tried to retrieve a memory his mind sort of stopped. He would run through the sequence of events, but then it would evaporate, consumed in a white light, like someone destroying the negative of a film under a magnifying glass.

He shrugged, feeling stupid.

Hermione didn't look offended, just reached out and patted his hand. "It's okay. You'll get there."

"How do you know that?"

"Cause she's Hermione,' Ron looked at her, 'and she knows everything."

Hermione threw him a meaningful look.

"But you said it too,' Harry pointed at Ron. 'Earlier. You said I'd get it all back in the end. How could you even know that? And how do either of you know I have memory loss in the first place?"

They exchanged another look, and Harry felt another surge of anger. What did they know? What weren't they telling him? He wasn't sure he even wanted Hermione Granger so closely involved in his business.

"You…' Hermione started cautiously. A nod from Ron encouraged her to continue. 'You were exposed to a certain kind of magic, and as a result you've suffered some memory loss. But there's precedent,' she continued quickly as Harry opened his mouth to interrupt, 'and that person got their memory back over a period of time – all their memories. They had a full recovery. You've been recovering memories during the past month, yes? That's what led you here?"

Harry nodded. "What kind of magic?"

"Hard to explain,' Ron said. 'Even I don't really understand it, and I was there when it happened."

"What happened?"

Hermione and Ron exchanged another look.

"I'm not a baby,' Harry said defensively. 'I can handle it. Did a spell backfire in class?"

Hermione almost laughed at that, in a way one might laugh when an adult admits they still write letters to Santa Claus.

"What? It's not a dumb question."

"No, I know it's not, that's not why I'm…'Hermione paused, looking awkward.

"It wasn't in class,' Ron clarified.

"So what was it then?' Harry asks, trying not to sound demanding but he was desperate for information and so close to finding out.

"It's a long story,' Hermione warns.

"It's my life,' Harry retorts, 'and I have all the time in the world.

Ron purses his lips and blows out air. "Alright, I'll put the kettle on.

* * *

Four hours later, Hermione sits at the kitchen bench, cradling a cup of coffee in her hands and staring off into space. She feels so much – relief, sadness, frustration, happiness, impatience, guilt – that she's trying to focus on just one thing: her drink. She wishes the Weasleys had a piano.

After a few moments heavy footfalls begin above her head and slowly make their way downstairs until Ron appears, looking exhausted.

"He's going to sleep,' Ron explained, coming over to sink onto the stool beside her. 'I don't blame him. I think I could sleep for about a year as well."

Hermione reached out, placed one hand on his shoulder and ran the other through his hair. She massaged his shoulder softly and he exhaled, feeling relaxed already.

"I feel bad,' he said softly, 'not telling him everything."

"You know we can't,' she reasoned, 'at least not yet. When he gets more memories back he'll get more questions and then we can answer them. But he barely remembers anything. I don't want to overwhelm him."

Ron smiled slightly. "You know when he does remember stuff and knows we haven't told him he's going to be royally pissed off."

Hermione shrugged. "I think we're pretty used to the Potter tantrums by now. We just have to hope he understands."

Ron leaned in then and kissed her. "You should go up and see Ginny. She looked a bit upset."

Without asking questions, Hermione nodded and headed upstairs.

Ron waited until he could hear her footsteps above his head before leaning onto the kitchen bench and putting his head in his hands with a long, deep sigh.

He scrunched his hair in his fingers his mind went into a whirl. He felt dizzy and light-headed with relief. They'd know Harry would come back eventually, that his memories would slowly return and that he would eventually find Ron, because other than Hagrid, Ron was the first wizard he had every really met. They had planned it all. They had asked Tom at The Leaky Cauldron to keep an eye out for Harry, in case he showed up, and that he should send him to the Burrow. Ron made a mental note to buy Tom dinner as a thank-you.

The back door clicked, and Ron looked up just as his mother walked through the door.

"Merlin's beard, this weather!' she cried, shivering against the wind. 'You'd hardly think we were mid-way through May, would you?"

Ron just watched as she took off her coat and sent it to the coat stand with a flick of her wand. When he didn't reply with one of his usual sarcastic comments, she looked up. Her expression shifted instantly.

"What is it?' she demanded softly. 'What's wrong? What's happened?"

"Harry's upstairs,' he said simply.

Mrs. Weasley gasped; her hand went straight to her heart. "Goodness."

"I put him in Charlie's room – figured it was the safest."

"When did he get here?"

"Few hours ago."

"Have you owled…"

"No,' Ron cut her off quickly. 'I haven't told anyone… 'cept for Hermione. And Ginny, but she was already here."

Mrs. Weasley looked up at the ceiling and smiled. "She was right. He did come straight here."

"Yeah, well…' Ron arched his back, feeling his sore muscles protest, '… she would know. Don't go up there!' he added quickly, leaping in front of his mother as she made for the stairs.

"I was just going to say hello,'

"Don't, Mum. Just leave him. Hermione and I have just spent the past hour and a half trying to fill him in on what's happened, but not tell him at the same time. He won't really remember you… hell, he doesn't even remember Hermione yet…'

"Ronald, don't cuss…"

"Mum…"

"Alright!' Mrs. Weasley conceded, backing off slightly. 'Alright. But I'm making him breakfast tomorrow morning and you can't stop me."

Ron grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it."

She looked up at him, her face etched with concern. "Are you alright?"

Ron shrugged, feeling his ears burn. "Course I am."

Mrs. Weasley 's expression didn't change as her gaze lingered for a moment – she clearly didn't believe him. But she thankfully dropped the subject, choosing instead to pat him on the arm.

"Go sit down and I'll fix you something. I'll owl everyone and tell them."

Ron wanted to say he was grateful and that he loved her, but instead he simply bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

* * *

The next morning, Harry made his way down the hallway to the door marked Ginny. He knocked softly and waited, feeling a little awkward, yet determined.

The door swung inward, revealing the skinny red-head he knew to be Ron's little sister. Her entire face went red.

"H-Hello,' she stuttered.

"Hello,' He responded politely.

After an awkward pause, Ginny hugged her arms around herself as she seemingly remember she was still in her pajamas. "Pardon my appearance,'

"Do you want me to… I can come back…?"

"No!' she cried, reaching out as Harry began to back away. She laughed softly, checking herself. 'I mean… no, it's okay. What can I do for you?"

Harry wished she'd taken the offer. She was wearing very short shorts and a large Gryffindor Quidditch jersey that exposed one of her shoulders and he was finding it a little difficult to focus. She seemed to notice his problem and straightened her top up a little.

"Uh… I want… um…' he looked up from her legs, feeling ridiculous and traitorous. 'My wand. I wanted to get my wand. Ron said you have it."

"Oh, right!' she nodded and ducked back into her room.

Harry waited patiently on the threshold, looking into her room curiously. She had many posters on the walls, some of her favorite Quidditch team the Holyhead Harpies; others of what Harry guessed was a wizarding rock band called, The Weird Sisters, one of which was autographed. Her window presented a view over their paddocks, and Harry could see in the distance what must have been a house, but looked like some sort of black cylinder. A desk was underneath the open window; it was strewn with parchment and books and quills, and Harry could also see a few framed photographs waving at him.

Before he could get a better look, Ginny reappeared.

"Here you go,' she smiled.

Harry's right arm tingled again as he looked down at the wand she was holding out for him. He recognized it instantly – his wand. He seized it and gripped it tightly, holding it up to examine it. It was pristine; cleaner than he ever remembered keeping it. He waved it around slightly and sparks shot out of the end. Harry grinned.

"I cleaned it for you,' Ginny admitted softly. 'It was disgusting. But most boys' wands are. You should see Fred's – looks like he's been sticking it in a bucket of dirt every day."

"Thanks,' Harry smiled in gratitude.

Ginny leaned against the door frame. "I suppose you're probably wondering why I have it."

Harry had, but he'd felt rude asking. He hadn't been very comfortable with the idea that Ron had given his wand to his little sister to look after, but had trusted Ron's judgment.

"Ron looses everything,' Ginny explained with a chuckle. 'He wanted to keep it, but didn't trust himself, so I told him he could keep it in my room."

"Well thank you,' Harry said, 'for not losing my wand. I'm sorry for landing that responsibility on you. It's really not your problem."

Ginny looked at her feet; her hair fell around her face, obscuring it from view. "Don't mention it."

Harry slipped his wand in his pocket, eager to try it out, but not in front of her. "Well I'll let you get back to… sleeping. Sorry if I woke you."

"Where are you going?"

Ginny's question was a little loud, and Harry, who had started to leave down the hall, turned back to see her hanging out the doorway, looking embarrassed.

"Ron's coming with me back to Dalesford,' Harry explained. 'I'm going to introduce him to the people I've been living with."

"Is Hermione going with you?"

Harry frowned. "No. Just Ron."

Ginny almost looked relieved. "Who will you say he is?"

"A friend from school. Best not to lie."

"No,' Ginny nodded, biting her lip. 'Best not to lie."

Harry nodded, feeling awkward again. She was looking at him, as if waiting for him to say something, but he didn't know what that could possibly be. He'd already thanked her for looking after his wand, hadn't he? He wracked his brains quickly for something, then looked at her top again.

He pointed. "You play for Gryffindor now too I hear?"

Ginny tugged at her jersey. "This is Charlie's old jersey, but yeah, I play. We're on the team together. You're captain."

Harry blinked. "I am?"

"Ron didn't tell you?' she chuckled.

"He told me he and I were on the team. He forgot to mention that."

"Stupid blighter,' she laughed.

Harry smiled, glad she was happier. He liked the sound of her laugh.

"Thanks again,' he said, patting his pocket. 'We should go for a fly sometime. I'm probably really out of shape."

Ginny nodded, looking radiant. "It's a date."

Harry nodded, waved, and headed off down the hallway, feeling her eyes on him the whole time.

He found Ron downstairs in the kitchen, pulling a cloak on and talking to a man Harry had never seen before. He was in his late thirties, Harry guessed, with light brown hair streaked with gray, wearing the shabbiest robes Harry had ever seen – not that he'd seen many.

They both looked up when Harry entered the room. Ron smiled. The other man looked at him with polite interest.

"Get your wand?"

Harry held it up triumphantly. "Your sister cleaned it for me."

"I'll bet she did,' Ron chuckled. He turned to the other man. 'Harry, this is Remus Lupin. He's, uh… a friend of ours."

Remus stepped forward, his hand outstretched. "Harry,"

Harry shook it, feeling as if he knew his man somewhere before. "I know you, don't i?"

"I suspect you'll remember soon enough,' Remus said with a smile.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Why did everyone keep saying that? Why couldn't they just tell him now?

Remus seemed to sense this, because he said, 'I was your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher a few years ago."

"Oh,' Harry said simply. 'What happened to Quirrell?"

"Uh…' Remus began, looking awkward.

Ron cleared his throat. "Harry, you ready to go? Mum wants us back before dinner and I don't know how long we're gonna have to explain everything to these friends of yours."

"You can't wear that,' Harry pointed at Ron's cloak.

"What's wrong with it? It's brand new. Hermione bought it for me for Christmas."

"Muggles aren't used to seeing people wearing cloaks, Ron,' Remus said gently.

"If they see you wearing that they'll think you're a weirdo, and they're not gonna let me leave with a weirdo,' Harry reasoned. 'Just wear a jacket."

Ron took his cloak off, sulking.

* * *

"So this is your friend from high school?"

Harry nodded, willing Ron to keep his mouth shut. "I remembered his name, looked him up in the directory and gave him a call. He was still living at the same address which was lucky."

Poppy beamed up at Ron. "And you came to an old friend's aid? Why you lovely boy!"

Ron's ears went red. "Well… he's my best mate, isn't he? Couldn't just leave him stranded."

"Can't be that good of a mate,' Ewan growled, 'if you didn't even come looking for him for a whole month."

Ron's face went as red as his ears.

Harry was starting to think that Ron's original idea, that they just memory charm Poppy and Ewan and make them forget that Harry ever existed, might have been a good idea after all. But like before he pushed the idea aside. He cared about these people; he didn't want to mess with their heads like that. It felt invasive and rude and creepy.

But it was tempting, just to avoid all these explanations and lies.

When they had shown up at the farm half an hour prior, Ron had been both impressed and amused that Harry had been living there for a whole month. Poppy had been ecstatic to see Harry back in her house; Harry suspected that she thought she was never going to see him again; that he was going to meet up with people in London and not come back, even for what little possessions he had. Ewan hadn't said much of anything; he'd just wanted to know who the tall, red-headed bloke was he'd brought along with him.

"Ewan, be quiet, for goodness sake. Don't be rude to Harry's guest!' Poppy snapped.

"It's okay,' Ron said, 'I agree with you, sir – I feel like a right old prat."

"Were you there when Harry went missing?' Poppy asked.

Harry stood back, putting his faith in Ron to tell the story they had come up with the right about of feeling and sense of regret.

And he did, Harry was pleased to see. He couldn't remember Ron being this good of a liar, but he supposed after seven years of the two of them dodging teachers and getting into trouble like Ron implied they had, one would gain a few skills.

They seemed to believe him; the story of how Ron, Harry and few of their other friends were all out celebrating after their end of year exams, and they had one drink too many, and Harry had his drink spiked by some guys they had a run-in with who thought it would be a hilarious and effortless way to exact revenge, and how Harry had had a bad reaction and they'd lost him that night and been unable to find him since.

"Doctors didn't say anything about alcohol or drugs in his system,' Ewan said, sizing Ron up.

Ron looked confused.

"Well,' said Harry quickly, swooping in, 'I figure what happened is I must have had a bump on the head or something and been wandering around for a while, so it would have had time to leave my system. But that's just a guess, I can't remember yet."

Ewan didn't look convinced, but without any other sort of explanation to offer, he let it go.

"Didn't you call the police?' asked Poppy. 'Report him missing?"

"The Police?' Ron looked baffled.

"Odds are he was just as confused and drunk as I was at the time,' Harry said quickly. 'He probably didn't even realize something was up until much later."

"So why not call the police then?"

"This is what's wrong with you kids today,' Ewan said, 'all out interested in getting on the piss, but none of you care about the consequences. Say he turned up in a ditch somewhere, hmm? Then how would you feel?"

Ewan was glaring at Ron, and Harry could feel this escalating quickly. He could see that Ewan knew something was off with Ron, but couldn't tell what it was, and it was driving him mad, and Harry decided it was time to get Ron out of the limelight.

"Ewan, don't act all high and mighty,' Harry said firmly, 'everyone in this town knows about your drunken nights and the stuff you used to get up to. I know where that dint in the town statue came from."

Ewan clamped his mouth shut. Poppy covered her mouth with her hand and coughed, trying to hide her laughter.

"Ron made a mistake,' Harry could feel Ron tense beside him but didn't look around; he'd apologize later, 'it happens. I'm not angry at him and you shouldn't be either. He's my friend, not my father."

"He should have your back,' Ewan challenged.

Harry's expression hardened and he replied, 'He does."

Ewan's eyebrows rose slightly and his eyes widened a little, but he didn't say anything. Harry felt a little guilty at speaking so rudely, but his indignation at Ewan jumping on Ron like that was outweighing it. He didn't know why he felt so protective of Ron, or why he just knew that Ron would have his back no matter what, but he did, and he was learning to trust his instincts.

"What about your father?' asked Poppy, trying to defuse the situation. 'Or mother. Surely they would have noticed you missing."

Harry looked over at Ron; his expression was solemn, but sympathetic.

"Sit down,' Harry gestured to the chair beside Ewan.

Poppy did so, and Harry told them everything.

Everything with the exception of magic and Voldemort and murder, of course. He told them the version Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had told him so many times; that they were killed in a car accident, that he had been the only survivor and the only thing he'd walked away with was his lightning bolt scar. He told them about the Dursleys (leaving out the part about living in a cupboard for most of his life) and said he received a sports scholarship to boarding school in Scotland, and that's how he met Ron.

Ron went along with it, not saying much anymore, mostly, Harry suspected, because he had no idea where Harry was pulling all this from, and since the McDowells seemed to be buying it he didn't want to mess it up.

And as weak as Harry felt everything to be, they were buying it; Harry supposed it was because he was speaking with such conviction. Mostly everything he was saying was true, he was just leaving out the magical aspect.

"So this Aunt and Uncle of yours,' Ewan said, 's'pose they'll be anxious to have you back."

"I doubt it,' Harry said, not even thinking.

Poppy frowned. "Well why not?"

"We, er… don't really get on,'

"That's why he moved in with me,'

Harry looked around at Ron, who shrugged, his face flushing pink.

"What's wrong with them?' Ewan snapped. 'Nothing wrong with you, is there? What's not to get on with?"

A feeling of flattery washed over Harry. Ewan was always accusing him, never defending him.

"He does leave the wet towels on the floor,' Ron offered.

Poppy laughed. Ewan rolled his eyes.

Poppy rubbed Ewan's shoulder as she used him to push herself up from her seat. "So I guess you'll be leaving then? Going back to London with Ron?"

Harry pursed his lips, feeling guilty.

"No, don't look at me like that – it's okay,' Poppy chuckled, pulling him in for a hug.

He still felt a little awkward when she hugged him, but not as much as he had at the start. People being tactile with him was not something he was terribly accustomed to, but everyone seemed to hug him – Poppy, Hamish, Hermione, even Ron who he didn't remember ever really hugging before.

"Now I have to advertize for a new farm hand,' muttered Ewan.

Poppy kicked him in the shin. "Harry, why don't you take Ron upstairs and collect your things?"

Harry led Ron out of the tiny kitchen, up the stairs and across the landing until they reached his room.

"Wow,' Ron remarked as they entered. He crossed straight to the window.

"What do you mean? It's as big as your room."

"No,' Ron pointed at the floor. 'They really care about you."

Harry ducked under his bed for the spare suitcase so Ron wouldn't see him flinch.

"It's a good thing, don't get me wrong,' Ron continued. Harry watched his old, worn sneakers move across the floorboards, 'we hoped you'd end up somewhere nice, but we didn't figure you'd make connections like this after only a few weeks. But hey, look who I'm talking about – the boy who attracts attention even when he's not in the room."

"What are you talking about?' Harry reappeared, feeling confused. 'They didn't say anything."

"It's what they didn't say."

Harry got to his feet and frowned. "When did you become so insightful?"

Ron's ears went red. "December?"

Harry smiled and went about collecting what small possessions he had, wishing he could remember Ron's transition from the little boy to the man he was now.

"Where did that come from?' Ron asked suddenly.

Harry looked down at the silver locket in his hand. "I was wearing it the night I lost my memories. It's mine."

Ron swallowed hard, looking suddenly angry.

"What's your problem?'

"Nothing,' Ron blinked, and his expression slowly faded. 'Nothing. Just come on. I hate muggle houses, I always feel like I'm going to break something."

When they got back downstairs, Ewan was folding clothes into a pile on the dining table and Poppy was going through her purse.

"You're taking these clothes,' Poppy said, her tone baring no question.

"But…"

"Just shut up and take them,' Ewan said, handing Ron some shirts.

"But these are Keith's clothes,' Harry reasoned.

"From when he was a skinny little git like you,' said Ewan, taking the suitcase from Harry. 'He's thirty whatever now and has a bigger belly than mine. He's no use for them now."

Harry watched as Ewan began to pack the trousers, jeans and socks in the suitcase. "I have my own clothes, you know. I have stuff."

Poppy made her way over and paused, looking emotional, her wallet cradled in her hands. Harry panicked, thinking she was going to try and give him money, but instead she pulled out a small photograph that he recognized instantly.

"Here,' her voice was thick with emotion, 'you keep this."

Harry took it from her and smiled. His own face smiled awkwardly back at him, Poppy had her arm around his waist and was beaming, and Ewan was on the other side of her, not smiling, but not frowning or scowling, which for Ewan was almost smiling. It was a clipping from the newspaper ; Ewan had won first prize in the competition and they'd had their photo taken for the show section of the local newspaper. Harry had only been living with them for four days and had been useless at moving cattle and answering peoples questions about weight and form and feed and caretaking, but he'd had fun, and it had felt nice to feel like he belonged somewhere when he couldn't remember belonging anywhere.

"You've been carrying this around the whole time?' Harry asked, feeling his cheeks burn.

"She's got two more copies in her scrapbook,' muttered Ewan.

"Just something to remember us by when you're living it up in the big city with all your friends,' Poppy smiled.

Harry rolled his eyes. He was aware that Ron was behind him, shuffling awkwardly in the background, so instead of hugging her again he bent down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, Poppy. I really appreciate everything you've… well, you know…"

"I know, I know,' she laughed, patting his shoulders. 'Go on, now, both of you. And make sure you call us when you're home safe."

"I will,' Harry made a mental note to ask if he could borrow Hermione's phone.

Ewan grabbed the suitcase. "I'll walk you to the car,'

"We don't have a car,' Ron said.

"How'd you get here then? Fly?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance.

"The bus,' Harry said quickly.

"I'll drive you into town then,"

Poppy hugged him again, and then Ron, whose face flushed deep red. Ewan patted her on the back, explaining that they were only going into the city, not leaving the country forever, and then walked Harry and Ron out to the car.

* * *

They weren't really getting the bus home. They were going home by Portkey. Harry had been told he'd travelled this way loads of times, but the sensation of being flung around the universe by his navel was not something he could remember and had not been prepared for, despite Hermione's very detailed description of what it would feel like. It wasn't his favorite way to travel, that's for sure, but he preferred it to Floo Powder, and since he didn't know how to Apparate and Ron wasn't confident enough taking Harry and his stuff in Side-Long Apparation, Portkey was they're only other option.

But to keep up pretenses they let Ewan drop them at the bus stop in town and help him with his luggage – luggage that Ron said he would shrink down as soon as they found someplace away from prying eyes so they could slip it in Harry's pocket.

Harry loved magic.

"So,' Ewan grunted, dropping the old case at Harry's feet, 'you'll be alright then?"

"Reckon so,' Harry nodded.

Ewan cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, well… I gather these relatives of yours are a bunch of pillocks, so if you ever need anything you call us, right?"

Harry smiled. "You'll be top of my list,"

Ewan looked at him, really looked at him, and Harry felt a bit awkward under his stare. It was as though Ewan was searching for something – something a lot of people seemed to be doing lately.

But it only lasted a moment. Ewan cleared his throat again and held his hand out.

Harry shook it firmly. "Thanks, Ewan. I know you never really liked the idea of me, but I appreciate everything you did for me. Really."

"Yeah, well… everyone deserves a chance, I reckon, and I was in the position to help you out. And you turned out alright… for a scrawny little city twerp."

Harry laughed. "So did you."

Ewan shook Ron's hand. "Don't let him out of your sight this time, yeah?"

"Absolutely not, sir,' Ron swore.

And with a final punch in the arm that left Harry's arm tingling, Ewan got back in his car and drove away.

Ron looked after him long after the silver car and vanished over the hill. "I think he likes you."

"Everyone likes me,' Harry grabbed his case, 'I just have one of those faces."

Ron laughed and pulled his wand out of his pocket. "Shall we?"

As sad as Harry was to be leaving, he was also very excited. He was excited to get his old life back; his memories, his skills with magic, his so-called magnificent ability on a broomstick, his alleged friendship with Hermione which seemed important and yet he couldn't remember…

"Stop right there!'

They were half-way across the street, headed for the back of the Bakery where there was a small alley they could get a piece of rubbish from and disappear within quite inconspicuously, when the familiar Irish accent called out to them.

Harry and Ron whirled around to see a stocky young man running over to them.

"Think you're gonna skip town and not even say goodbye to your best mate, do you?' Hamish panted, grinning. 'Shows how much our time together meant to you. I thought we had something special!"

Harry could feel Ron's confusion beside him, and patted him on the arm to indicate that he would explain later. "What are you doing here? I thought you were meant to be at Swan Hill for a week."

"Got postponed cause of the floods, blocked off the roads."

"How'd you know I was leaving?"

"Gran called me saying she'd just got off the phone with Mildred who was over for tea at Josie's who got a phone call from Harriet who said she'd just got off the phone with Mary who'd just spent the past ten minutes listening to Poppy sob down the phone about how you were leaving and she was gonna miss you and worried if you were going to be alright on your own and other barmy stuff that these old think biddies about."

Ron frowned. "That _was_ English, right?"

"Who's this, then?"Hamish asked, gesturing at Ron. 'The man you're leaving me for?"

"Hamish, Ron. Ron, Hamish."

"Harry's told me all about you,' Ron smiled, shaking Hamish's hand.

"I hope he mentioned how devilishly handsome I am."

"He did, actually."

"Splendid, splendid,' Hamish rocked on the balls of his feet, looking at Harry's case. 'So you really are leaving then? I thought it was all Chinese whispers and what-not. A slow gossip day."

"No, I'm really leaving,' Harry nodded. 'I would have come and seen you but I thought you were out of town."

Hamish waved a hand dismissively. "Pish posh, don't trouble yourself about it. Just glad I caught you! London, is it?"

Harry explained quickly the situation with Ron, leaving out even more details than he had with the McDowells. He knew this would be the last person he had to explain to; the rumor mill around town was clearly very reliable and efficient.

"So memories coming back? Catching up with old friends? This is good news! I'm happy for you, brother!'

Harry grunted as Hamish hugged him tightly. He smiled, patting his friend on the back. He was going to miss seeing him every day. He'd humor and personality had been comforting, and now that Harry thought about it is figured it was because he was so much like Ron.

"Thanks. If you're even in London sometime you should let me know. I'll shout you a pint."

"Sounds good to me,' Hamish clapped Harry on the back. 'Shame; I could have thrown you a hell for a good-bye party, y'know? Lisa is back in town,' Hamish winked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I kissed her once, for God's sake."

Ron looked at him, surprised.

"I was very drunk,' Harry explained. 'Thanks to this berk."

"You loved it. Not my problem you're throwing away true love,' Hamish smirked. 'Anyway, I won't hold you up with mushy goodbyes then, you've got a long way to go. Ron, it was nice meeting you. Take care of my girlfriend here, yeah?"

Ron smiled, shaking Hamish's hand again. "Will do,"

"Just don't forget about us simple country folk when you're walking the streets of the big city, alright?' Hamish smiled, backing away. 'Who's the hardest drinker in all the land?"

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes. "You are."

"I can't hear you!"

"_You are_!' Harry shouted.

Hamish punched the air as he walked away.

Ron chuckled. "I like these muggles."

"Yeah,' Harry smiled, 'me too."

* * *

Later on that evening, Harry was washing the dishes in the sink after dinner when Mrs. Weasley came into the room, a full laundry basket hovering behind her.

"Harry!' she laughed. 'What are you doing?"

"The washing up?' Harry asked over his shoulder. 'You cooked dinner, you shouldn't have to clean up as well."

"Don't be absurd, here…' she bumped him out of the way with her hip and handed him a towel. With a quick flick of her wand the dishes began cleaning and stacking themselves.

Harry dried his hands, lifting his chin into the air. "I could have done that,"

"Of course you could,' Mrs. Weasley smiled. 'Now go sit down and relax."

"But…"

"No buts! I've got this all under control. Trust me, after seven children I know how to run my housecleaning."

"I feel bad just sitting around though,' he admitted. 'You're letting me stay here without contributing to anything."

"You're family,' Mrs. Weasley gave him a look of such affection Harry had to advert his eyes. 'You don't have to contribute to anything… except keeping your room clean and putting the towels in the basket after you're finished in the shower and putting your plates in the sink when you're done eating."

Harry laughed. "I think I can do that."

"Good boy. Now why don't you run along and see what Ginny is doing?"

"Ginny?"

"Or Ron,' Mrs. Weasley added quickly.

"Actually… I think I might just go outside for a while if that's alright."

"Of course it is. But take a jacket, the air has a bit of a chill."

Harry rolled his eyes, but went upstairs for his jacket anyway.

He was coming back out of his room when he ran into Ron in the hallway.

"Oh hey,' Ron was pulling on a jacket, 'wanna go for a fly? I was feeling a bit pent-up and was gonna come downstairs and ask you."

"Sure, but I don't have a broom."

"I have yours,' Ron smiled, 'it's locked up in the broom shed with the rest of ours."

Harry nodded and followed Ron downstairs.

When they passed by Ginny's room, the door was open and Harry looked in to see Hermione and Ginny sitting on the bed, talking. They both looked up when they noticed they were no longer alone, and Harry had the feeling he'd just interrupted a private conversation.

"We're going for a fly,' Ron jerked his thumb towards the stairs, 'won't be long."

Hermione nodded.

"Do you… want to come?' Harry felt awkward asking, but figured if Hermione and he were friends it was something maybe they would do together.

Hermione laughed. "Oh no thank you. I… er… have a book to read."

Harry nodded. He remembered that much about her at least – always in a book. "Ginny?"

Ginny looked at Hermione; she pursed her lips. "No thanks, Harry. Not tonight."

Harry had the distinct feeling she was lying, but he didn't get to think about it anymore because Ron was tugging on his sleeve, telling him to come on, hurry up.

They were out the back at the shed when Harry asked, 'Does your sister have a problem with me?"

Ron tapped the lock with his wand. "What do you mean?"

"Have I done something to upset her? She's just kind of… off around me."

"No, you haven't done anything."

Harry frowned as Ron went into the shed. "So what is it then? Does she just not like me?"

For a moment all Harry could hear was the sound of rummaging, and then Ron reappeared with ruffled hair, holding two broomsticks.

"No, that's not the problem,' said Ron, holding out a broom for Harry.

"So there is a problem."

"There's no problem!' Ron laughed nervously, waving the broom handle in front of Harry to take. 'Look, this is girl territory. Ask Hermione, she can explain it to you better than I can."

"But she's your sister,'

Ron sighed and looked like he'd just tastes something sour. "She likes you, okay? She just feels awkward around you."

"Why?"

"Cause you're the Boy Who Bloody Lived,' Ron cried. 'Most people who meet you feel awkward around you. You're a celebrity. You're a badass who defeated the most powerful wizard of modern time without doing anything. For some people that's a lot to take in."

"But she's known me for, what… eight years now? Wouldn't she be over it?"

Ron handed Harry the broom, looking solemn. "She has a crush on you, okay? Make me say it. She _likes_ you. And I guess it's hard for her because you don't remember her."

Harry's cheeks burned. "Oh,'

"Yeah, so do you wanna keep talking about this now? Or do you wanna fly?"

"I want to fly,"

"Thank Merlin,'

Ron swung one leg over his broom, kicked off from the ground and soared high into the air.

Excitement and anticipation suddenly flooded through Harry's body, making his skin tingle. He gripped the broom tightly in his hand and felt it again, that surge of eagerness that he'd felt the day he'd been cleaning Hamish's attic; the only difference this time being that now he knew what that feeling meant.

He held the broom horizontal in front of him and examined it. He frowned. Even in the low light he could tell something was different.

"This isn't my broom,'

"What's that?"

Harry looked up. Ron was circling high above him. "This isn't my broom!"

Ron swooped down, hovering to a stop just in front of him. "Sure it is,"

"This says _Firebolt_,' Harry showed Ron the gold lettering. 'Where's my Nimbus?"

"Oh, er…' Ron rubbed the back of his neck, looking awkward. 'It's… er…"

"What? Where is it?' Harry demanded, feeling alarmed. 'Out with it!"

"It's gone."

"What do you mean, gone?"

"It's destroyed."

Harry blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You had an accident, years ago, third year during a Quidditch match. The weather was crap and you fell off your broom and the wind blew it into the Whomping Willow and… it got smashed up."

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh my God."

"But it's okay…"

"How is it okay? _My broom is gone_!"

"… because you have this one now!' Ron said excitedly, gesturing at the Firebolt. 'This is one of the best broomsticks in the world."

"My Nimbus was one of the best broomsticks in the world."

"Yeah, seven years ago! Do you know how many Nimbus's have been out since then? But this… _this_…' Ron stared at the Firebolt with a loving smile, '… this still ranks in the top five, four years later! Its acceleration is outstanding, its response to turns is so sensitive… people would still sell their own feet to own one of these – and it's all yours, you lucky bastard."

Harry looked at the broom again. He did have to admit it looked pretty spectacular. It was sleeker than his Nimbus, it looked fancier and weighed less.

"Just try it out,' Ron said, flying back up. 'Trust me, you're gonna love it!"

Harry sighed and swung his leg over the broom. He enjoyed the fact that he remembered how to do this, at least. He gripped the handle tightly and kicked off from the ground.

And in the first two seconds he knew that Ron was right – he loved it.

The feeling of wind blowing through his hair was so familiar, so right, that he felt his eyes welling up. He looked over at Ron, who was grinning at him, and then he leant forward and sped off.

It was fast, much faster than his Nimbus, and so much better. Harry pulled up slightly, slowing down only to appreciate the feeling. It was like putting on an old pair of jeans; Harry smiled as he flew in figure eights, sped up and then skidded to a halt, flew up as high as he dared and then dove, almost crashing into the ground but pulling up just in time, his knees scraping the grass. It was better than he remembered.

"Still got the moves, I see,' Ron admired as Harry flew back over to him.

"This is the greatest thing in the world,' Harry gasped, laughing.

"See? What did I tell you? The reviews for the Firebolt are still…"

"Not just the broom,' Harry began flying around Ron in slow circles. 'All of this. Flying… magic… being here with you…"

He stopped, feeling embarrassed, but Ron didn't look uncomfortable; he looked pleased.

"It just feels right, you know?' Harry tried to explain. 'Like I'm slowly waking up from a dream or something."

Ron flew over to him and squeezed his shoulder. "I know it's hard for you right now, but you're gonna remember everything soon enough."

"I know. I believe you."

Ron nodded, and then punched him in the arm. "Come on, I'll race you."

Harry snorted. "On that old Cleansweep?"

"How'd you know this is a Cleansweep?"

"I remember what they look like from Quidditch."

Ron grinned.

* * *

A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to get this out, as usual, but I've has issues in my personal life these past few months and it hasn't put me in the mood for writing - hence the lack of talent in this chapter :) But I'm slowly getting back on track, and I'll hopefully have the next chapter to you soon.

Have I mentioned how much I love you all for sticking around so long? Because I really do :)


	52. Chapter 51

Harry knew there were things they weren't telling him.

Most of the time he himself was surprised to find that he didn't mind all that much. He knew it was impossible for them to tell him every detail of every moment for the last seven years, and to expect that of them was very unfair. They were telling him things as he went along; when a new memory flashed through his inner eye, if he needed something clarified or explained because he couldn't wait for the rest of his memories to come back and explain it all by themselves, everyone was more than happy to provide those answers for him.

Of course, most of the answers came from Hermione and Ron.

But still, at times he couldn't help but feel frustrated and impatient and, to his shame, jealous of everyone else and their memories, completely intact, that they seem to take for granted.

More than once Ron shared what was obviously an inside joke with him; he'd laugh and look to Harry to share the moment, only to sober at once when he realized Harry had no idea what he was talking about.

"You know they're not disappointed in _you_,' Lupin said to him one day, after he'd witnessed such an event. 'They're just disappointed."

"I know,' he said automatically.

Lupin didn't seem to mind Harry's stoic response. Harry figured, if he knew him as well as everyone said he did, Lupin had probably received this reaction many times and was used to it by now; enough to simply brush it off at any rate.

Harry wished he could remember how someone could come to tolerate him so much. He wished he could remember when he'd become so sarcastic and cynical.

He liked Lupin, he'd decided, although he doesn't even remember meeting him yet. Hermione told him Lupin was one of his favorite teachers. Ginny said that's because he was the only Defense teachers who hasn't tried to kill him.

"You're already catching up,' he said when they were out in the garden, and firing spells at gnomes when they tried to steal clothing from the line. 'You couldn't remember Hermione yesterday, and today you seem a lot more at ease around her."

"I can't believe how different she is now,' Harry said, feeling he could trust Lupin with these things. 'And yet she's not at the same time. It's weird. A few days ago all I could remember was this bossy so-and-so, but she's done so much for me and Ron. That whole thing, with the Philosophers Stone? Utter madness."

Lupin chuckled. "Oh you have no idea. To be quite honest, neither do I – but maybe that's a good thing."

"How'd you know I remembered her?'

Lupin raised his eyebrows and took another sip of his beer.

"Don't tell me I'm under observation."

"Always. But only because we love you.

Although he barely knew Lupin and although the idea of being watched was annoying and slightly claustrophobic, he felt strangely reassured by this. Harry took the feeling as progress.

* * *

Ginny had expected that Harry would be different around her, but the experience was still very, very hard to go through.

Whenever they were all sitting in the living room after dinner, even if the only spot available was next to her, he would choose to sit next to Ron (or Hermione, now he remembered her properly), even if that meant sitting on the floor. Whenever they bumped into each other in the halls, Harry would always smile and blush and apologize, but that was it, and off he went looking for Ron again.

He wasn't making a conscious decision to me rude, that was just the habits he remembered and therefore instinctively carried out, and Ginny didn't resent anyone for it… but it still stung. Luckily Harry never saw her reaction, but Hermione always did, and she always came to Ginny's room that night before going to bed with Ron to give her a hug, and every night she told her the same thing.

"Not long now."

As hard as it was though, to have him in the house, but not really have him back properly, she had been preparing herself for it, and it all paled in comparison to the fact that he was alive.

She remembered what it felt like to sit beside his body in that tent at Hogwarts, wishing and hoping to God, Satan, Merlin or anyone who could help that it all wasn't really happening. It had felt like a kick in the guts. Her entire face tingled from her tears trying to burst out, despite her determination not to let them. She'd felt cold and numb; like the only thing holding her in place was his cold, lifeless hand in hers.

She'd let him go for only a moment, to cover her face so she could cry without him seeing, and then Lily had rushed in, and started laughing, and Ginny had been so angry it'd had taken her a moment to notice Harry was even missing.

It was then the waiting had started. Waiting to hear what the hell had happened, waiting for a plan to take place, waiting for Harry to make his way back, and now waiting for him to remember his own life.

And to remember her and how she fit into it.

"I feel so selfish,' she admitted to Hermione one day as they were doing the dishes. 'This frustrating, awful thing is happening to him and all I can do is think about how it affects me! I'm the worst girlfriend ever."

"You're being too hard on yourself,' Hermione soothed, handing her the next wet plate to dry. 'You think I didn't hate it when he wouldn't talk to me either? It was terrible."

"Yours only lasted a few days though. I have to wait for him to catch up on the next six years."

"He'll get there."

"I know, I know,' Ginny sighed and looked out the window at the four specks flying in the distance that's represented Fred, George, Ron and Harry. 'It just sucks."

There was a sudden 'pop' behind them, causing both girls to jump.

"Luna!' Hermione breathed. 'Good grief, you scared the life out of us!"

"I'm glad to see it went back in without difficulty.' Luna smiled, wandered over and took the dishrag from Ginny. 'I gathered from the fact that Harry is in the field that he was out of the house, so I could come over."

"Harry doesn't have to be out of the house for you to come over,' Ginny said, letting Luna take over her job without complaint. She hated dishes.

"I thought we were all supposed to stay away."

"No, only Lily." Hermione said regretfully.

Luna nodded. "Oh, I see. That's unfortunate. I suppose I don't need to tell you about those photographers then."

Both Hermione and Ginny's head snapped up.

"Photographers?' Ginny sighed deeply. "For the love of Merlin. I thought they'd all given up."

Luna shrugged. "Everyone wants to be the one to take the first picture of Harry, I guess. You can't blame them, after the story the Order told everyone about him."

"They can't see anything,' Hermione reassured Ginny. 'I put those wards up myself. They can stare Harry right in the face and not even realize."

"It's still bloody annoying,' Ginny said coolly, looking out the window.

Harry, Ron, Fred and George were all hovering high up in the air, passing Charlie's beaten up old Quaffle between them, chatting about who knows what. Ginny's mouth upturned slightly; she was happy to see him so happy. He'd lost a lot of his spark toward the end, but here and now when he couldn't remember any of that he looked lighter and freer, and Ginny was glad that even though it was a lie and it wouldn't last forever, he was getting these few weeks of blissful ignorance.

"From the Daily Prophet, I presume. Dad hasn't sent anyone over, as he, like I, was under the impression that your house was off limits for the next month or so. Clearly they didn't get the memo?"

Ginny watched as Harry waved at the others and flew down. He stopped a few feet from the ground, swung his leg over the broom and leapt the rest of the way; his broomstick fell out of the sky and landed obediently in his hand. Ginny smiled.

A moment later Harry walked into the house, leaving his broom propped up against the door frame. He stopped as he spotted Luna.

"Oh. Hello."

Luna waved. "Hello, Harry. Nice to see you again."

"Yeah, uh… you too."

"Had enough of getting your arse kicked?' Ginny teased.

Harry looked around at her, and Ginny tried not to flinch. She hated how her reactions to his gaze were so physical.

"I just came in to get a drink,' he smiled.

"Not because of the photographers then?" asked Luna.

Hermione stiffened and Ginny only just control herself by not hitting herself in the forehead with her palm.

Harry looked confused. "What photographers?'

"The Daily Prophet has been hanging around for the past few weeks trying to catch a glimpse of you,' said Luna. 'Because you defeated the Dark Lord again you're a hot topic, you see. Not that you weren't always, mind you – I hear you were in the running for Witch Weekly's Charming Smile award last month, but many people protested because there aren't many photos of you smiling. Makes sense, I guess. It'd be a bit bizarre to see posters of the Chosen One grinning instead of that sturdy, determined look on your face."

Harry continued to look at her in confusion, and then Ginny realized it was partly because of everything she'd just said, but mostly because he didn't have the faintest idea who she was.

Hermione clearly had the same thought, because she said quickly, 'Harry, this is Luna. She's a friend of ours. She lives just over the hill."

Luna smiled and waved at him again.

"So how does she know about photographers around the house and I don't?'

"We thought it would only upset you."

"Oh really?' Harry snapped at Hermione. 'Well guess what, I'm upset anyway!"

Ginny put her hand up. "I was on your side. I told them to tell you, but oh no…"

"Ginny, please,' Hermione frowned.

Harry chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, staring at all three girls before declaring, 'I'm going to go out and talk to them."

"Harry, no!' Hermione reached out and grabbed his arm as he made for the door.

"Why not? All they want is some pictures, right?'

"Right now they don't even know for sure that you're here, they're only guessing."

"I can't keep doing that to everyone,' Harry looked around at Ginny, looking guilty. 'What this must be putting your parents through…"

"They're dealing with it,' Ginny reasoned. 'We've been dealing with it for years, Harry. This isn't a new development."

She had hoped this would make the situation seem less dire, but judging from the look on his face it backfired.

"Stop that, I know what you're thinking,' Hermione said sternly. 'None of this is your fault. This is why we didn't tell you. We just wanted you to relax."

Harry clenched his jaw and stared Hermione down, but she kept his gaze, too used to that look to be affected by it anymore, and eventually Harry seemed to realize this and sighed.

"But maybe if I just talk to them…"

"Right now they're only guessing you're here. If they know you're here for sure then this place will be crawling with press and photographers not just from the Daily Prophet, but from all over the world!' Hermione reasoned. 'You don't understand just how much of a big deal you are right now."

"I get it,' he said. 'Third time I've faced Voldemort and survived, yadda yadda yadda… like Luna said, hot news."

"I can't stop you,' Hermione said, letting him go, 'it's your decision. And I'm not entirely against you doing it really… I just think you should wait. At least until your memories come back. They're going to ask you questions about things you don't remember, and the last thing you want is them thinking something's wrong with you."

"Something is wrong with me. I have amnesia."

Hermione pursed her lips and looked up at him pleadingly.

Harry looked at Ginny again. She nodded encouragingly.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I'll be outside with Ron. Nice to meet you, Luna."

Ginny watched him all the way out the door, into the paddock and up into the air. She turned back to see Hermione watching him too, and Luna drying this dishes again.

"I'm not going to say 'I told you so', but…"

"Good', snapped Hermione, giving Ginny a look.

Ginny smiled and went to the fridge. 'You have to tell him everything that's going on. He's going to find out anyway, and it'll be worse when he finds out you've been keeping it from him, let alone for so many weeks."

"I'm just trying to let him relax for a little bit,' Hermione sighed. 'I'm sorry if that makes me a bad friend."

"You're not a bad friend,' said Luna.

Hermione looked at her in mild surprise – which, Ginny mused, was how she normally looked at her.

"Well thank you, Luna. That's… very nice of you to say."

Ginny caught Hermione's eye, and nodded in the same way she had at Harry. Hermione smiled briefly, before turning back to Luna.

"Ginny is a bad friend though, just standing there letting you do her chores. Luna, give her that towel. You can help me decide what to have for dinner."

* * *

Harry was on his way to have a shower when he saw them.

He had just come down the hall from Charlie's old room, a towel strewn over his shoulder, when he'd passed by Ron's room. He looked in as he went past – just as he always did, completely out of a habit he didn't really remember having – and expected to see Ron sitting on his bed, playing chess against himself because no-one was good enough of a challenge for him.

The door was only slightly ajar, and Harry could only just see into the room. Ron _was_ sitting there, but what made this different was Hermione was sitting with him with her arm looped through his.

And the sword of Godric Gryffindor was lying across his lap.

Harry wasn't sure which part of this scenario was more bizarre. Where had Ron gotten the sword? Didn't Dumbledore have it in his office back at Hogwarts? Had Ron stolen it? If so, why? Such a thing was so out of character; as was Hermione's physical affection, as well as Ron's willingness to accept it.

Harry ducked out of sight and peered through the gap in the door. The voice in the back of his head was yelling at him, reminding him of his manners. This was rude. He could see he was interrupting an intimate moment. But he'd never seen Ron and Hermione like this. And why did Ron look so upset?

"I hate this thing,' Ron muttered.

"No you don't."

"Every time I look at it all I can picture is…' Ron trailed off, swallowing hard.

Hermione rubbed his shoulder. "He was evil. He… he deserved it."

Ron looked around at her, surprised. "I've never heard you say that before."

"Look at what he's done to us; to Harry. He's ruined so many people's lives. You did the right thing."

Harry frowned. Who were they talking about? What had Ron done? Harry looked at the blade, as shiny and gleaming as ever. Had Ron killed someone?

Ron looked at Hermione for a long moment, and then leant in and kissed her. Harry didn't feel surprise while watching, more accomplishment. He'd known things had been different between them, he just didn't know why they had been hiding it.

Hermione stroked his hair and put a hand over Ron's; the hand clutching the hilt of the sword. "If you want to give it back to him, you can."

"He gave it to me, it's mine."

Harry left when they started kissing again. Dumbledore had given Ron the sword? Why did he keep it if he didn't want it anymore?

Questions continued to run through Harry's head even as he got out of the shower and got dressed. He figured his only solution was to outright ask Ron what was going on. That's what adults did, right? He was an adult now. But it didn't really seem like a topic Ron wanted to talk about…

"Ooof!'

Harry grunted as he walked into a slim figure. He straightened himself up and smiled awkwardly. "Sorry, Ginny."

She sighed. "Such a big house, yet we keep running into each other – literally."

Harry tried not to stare at her bare legs. She was wearing very short shorts. His chest grumbled as he tore his eyes away, forcing them to stare at her face. But her face was only a few short inches above her neck and clavicle, which were easy to see in the sleeveless shirt she was wearing, and his chest conceded that this was a good compromise.

"Um…'

And that was all he could say.

Ginny's face flushed and she cleared her throat. "Well if you'll excuse me, there's a large pitcher of lemonade downstairs with my name on it.'

Harry nodded as she slipped passed him. He noticed the smell of something floral.

"You wanna come?'

Harry looked around to see she'd stopped just at the top of the stairs. She was watching him expectantly, maybe even a bit hopefully.

His feet were moving him forward before he even began to really think about it.

* * *

Three days later, Harry found Ron in the living room with his father, discussing what looked like a laptop that had been dropped in the mud and left outside to dry.

Ron looked up. "Please tell me you have something you need me to help you with."

Mr. Weasley hit him playfully up the back of the head. "You said you were interested!"

"Yeah – half an hour ago! You don't even know what it does!"

"I bet Harry knows."

Harry bit his lip and looked meaningfully at Ron. The last thing he wanted was to explain what a computer was, let alone how it worked, and judging from the way Mr. Weasley cleared his throat, he sensed this.

Mr. Weasley got to his feet. "I'll just be in the shed."

Harry watched him go, feeling his skin crawl.

Ron waited until his father left to get to his feet and cross the room. "You all right?"

He hadn't planned on actually talking about it, but Ron was looking at him with such concern that he felt he owed him an explanation, if only to calm him slightly.

"I remembered Sirius."

"Yeah, you said that yesterday. We told you he was innocent."

"No, I remembered…" Harry swallowed his words and looked at the floor.

Ron's weight shifted from one foot to the other, and the tension in the air shifted as Ron caught on.

"Oh. I see."

Harry flinched and looked up as Ron squeezed his shoulder. He was still getting used to Ron being physically affectionate.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No,' Harry shrugged him off and shoved his hands in his pockets. 'It's just a bit ridiculous, you know? I knew he died. You told me this already. You've told me everything, it's not like it's a shock."

"Don't be daft, 'course it's a shock,' Ron said. 'He was your family, and us telling you at the time when you had no memory of him was just facts to you – something you knew would be coming. But now you remember – how it felt, how it went – and I bet its torture all over again."

Harry scowled. "It's going to be the same all over again when I remember how Dumbledore died, isn't it?"

Ron sniffed. "Probably. You know if I could…"

"Yeah,' Harry nodded. 'I know.'

He looked at Ron inquisitively. Was now the right time?

"When did he give you the sword?'

Ron's head snapped up so fast Harry thought he heard Ron's neck crack.

"How'd you mean?"

"I saw you with the sword of Gryffindor the other day.' Harry admitted softly. 'Sorry. I wasn't spying; I was just walking past your room."

"S'Okay.' Ron sat down on the arm of the couch and rested his hands on his knees. 'Actually you gave it to me. Dumbledore left it to you in his will, and you passed it on to me."

Harry raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. "Well that was awful nice of me."

Ron laughed. "I know how to use it, is all."

"I killed a Basilisk with it."

"Well _I_ killed…"

Ron shut his mouth with a snap.

Harry didn't know if he was prepared for the answer.

Ron ran a hand through his hair and sighed, looking torn. He could see Harry waiting. "I told you I'd tell you everything… but you know I haven't, right?'

"'Course."

"I don't want to lie to you. If you ask me I'll tell you the truth… but do you want to ask me, or do you want to wait and find out yourself?'

Harry could see Ron didn't want to tell him. Whether it was because he didn't really want to talk about it, or because he didn't think he could explain it properly, Harry wasn't sure. But he was sure that he didn't want to make Ron feel more uncomfortable about it than he already was. Harry wanted to know more than anything, but not more than expense of his friend.

"Why didn't you tell me you and Hermione were together?'

Ron blinked, momentarily thrown. Then he laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"That was her idea. She said she didn't want to have things be "unnecessarily peculiar" for you when you got back. I told her she was being daft, and that you'd think we were equally daft when you got your memories back."

"You're right."

"Just make sure you tell her you found out all on your own, yeah? She'll kill me if she thinks I caved and spilled my guts to you."

Harry smiled. "I'll think about it."

"Thank Merlin you found out though, I tell you,' Ron rolled his eyes and got to his feet, 'not being able to snog my girlfriend whenever I feel like it… which is all the damn time… is bloody murder – you cock-blocking bastard."

Harry laughed – a proper, right-from-the-guts laugh. So much had changed. So much had happened. His entire life was breaking through the barriers in his mind in just a few weeks and it all felt so raw and shocking and disorientating that it was sometimes hard to stay focused.

Ron especially. But it was a relief to know that despite what burdens he was carrying, Ron was still okay.

Maybe they were all going to be okay.

* * *

When he could remember Dumbledore's Army, Harry decided it was getting better.

He was remembering more and more every day. He felt more comfortable around everyone. It was easier to smile and laugh. He got jokes, he understood references, he could actually cast spells more advanced than some crummy little first year. He felt more like himself; more at ease in his own skin. He didn't feel like such a burden anymore; like one of those annoying house guests that just didn't know when to leave and so they hung around all day and ate all the food and watched all the television shows that no-one else liked but were too polite to say so.

Harry missed television, he mused as he set the table outside.

"D'you ever watch The Practice?'

Hermione looked up from the candles she was lighting. "Excuse me?"

"The show."

"Yes, I've heard of it."

"What's so confusing about my question then?"

Hermione shook her head with a smile as she went back to her chore. "You just haven't talked about television with me in a long while, is all. What made you think of it?"

Harry shrugged as he lay down the cutlery. "Was just thinking we should go see a movie. That new movie Austin Powers looks all right."

"And the fact that it has Liz Hurley in a leather one piece has nothing to do with the appeal, I'm sure."

"And I'm sure I have no idea what you're on about. Come on, it'd be fun. Ron would like it… or get freaked out and hide behind his popcorn. Just the four of us."

Harry could feel Hermione's eyes burning into him as he began folding napkins.

"The _four_ of us?"

"Yeah, you know, you and Ron being all attached at the hip and all… and me… and Ginny…"

"Why not the Twins?"

"They've gotta work, don't they?"

Harry looked up as Ron jogged over, a basket of rolls levitating behind him. He pretended not to notice Hermione trying to hide her smile.

"This is bloody ridiculous,' Ron snapped, setting the basket down not quite as gently as he should have. 'We're only having Bill and Fleur over for dinner and the woman's gone mental. Have you seen her? She's making Ginny clean under the oven – _under the oven_! Like there's going to be a line later on so people can wedge their faces under there and inspect it!"

Hermione grabbed his face in her hands. "I love you, but you need to calm down."

Hermione planted a soft kiss on Ron's lips and he visibly deflated somewhat. Harry smiled.

"Was she like this at Bill and Fleur's wedding?' he asked.

Ron laughed bitterly. "Worse. Hurry up and remember shit so I can rant at you properly. I hate that 'I've-been-cursed-by-an-evil-twat-and-now- I-don't-remember-anything' look you give me. It's really not even an excuse anymore, you know."

There was a small pause, and although he knew Ron was only joking, Harry could still feel that tiny twinge of awkwardness. It had always been there when they mentioned his lack of memories, and although it had decreased lately it was still present but it felt different somehow; in the past it had been awkward because they had felt bad talking about things Harry didn't yet understand, now it was like they were waiting for something, and Harry could only guess they were close to the point where he remembered why he had lost his memory in the first place – and it wasn't good.

_Of course it's not good_, he thought for the millionth time. _You were in a war, you daft prat_.

He half-listened as Hermione asked Ron about going to see a movie. He wanted to know more about the war. It felt strange being left out of one of the most important moments in his life, a moment everyone else had been present for. He wanted to ask them all for every single detail. He wanted to know about Draco Malfoy and what Ron had done with that Sword, and the Ministry, and many other questions, but he also didn't want to press anyone for the information. Every time he got close to talking about it with someone they would look on-edge and cautious and uncomfortable, and they'd all been so patient with him that Harry decided that he should try to be patient and considerate too, and just wait until the memories came back all on their own.

He was both excited and nervous about what would happen when they did.

Ron slung an arm around Hermione's shoulders, squeezed her and gave her a quick kiss on her temple. 'I'll let you young whipper snappers get back to it. I'm gonna go dress up the ghoul in the attic and see if he wants to pretend to be me for a day and do all my chores for me."

"Absolutely not! Ron, get back here!"

Ron waved over his shoulder as he ran back into the house.

Hermione huffed. "Honestly."

Harry made a show of adjusting the table cloth for a moment. "Can I ask you something?"

He felt more than saw Hermione stiffen, even from across the table. "Always."

Where did he start?

He didn't get the chance. He looked up at the sound of something banging open. He smiled as Ginny leant out of her window and took a deep breath.

"How's dusting going?' he called.

Ginny looked down and smiled in surprise. "Oh there you are! Why do you always get the good jobs?"

"Because I'm prettier."

"Maybe compared to a bullfrog."

Harry laughed and looked at Hermione to share the joke. She was laughing, but in that way Harry remembered in her response to the way Harry used to look at Cho.

"Hey,' Harry looked up just in time to see Ginny climb up onto the windowsill. 'Catch me?"

'Ginny, don't!' Hermione cried.

Harry had his wand out a split second before she jumped. 'Wingardium Leviosa!'

Ginny stopped inches from the ground, her legs and arms splayed out. She laughed and Harry called off his spell, letting her drop the final distance.

Hermione rushed over. "For goodness sake! What if Harry didn't have his wand on him?'

"Harry always has his wand on him,' Ginny let Hermione help her to her feet and smiled over at him. 'Don't you?'

Harry felt his cheeks burn as he shoved his wand back into his back pocket.

"Glad to see you still have the same reflexes,' Ginny said, dusting herself off.

"Can you imagine if your mother had seen you?'

"Well she didn't, did she?' Ginny patted Hermione on the head. 'So just relax! Here, let me do something, I'm sick of dusting."

Harry smiled as Ginny began lighting candles with her wand, determined not to think about how the firelight made her hair look.

* * *

When Harry awoke, he could feel someone watching him.

He sat bolt upright in bed, panting and sweating, feeling like he'd just survived a close encounter with a Blask-Ended Skrewt. He knew he'd had a nightmare, but he couldn't remember anything about it. The more he tried to remember the details, the easier they seemed to fade into a fog.

He wiped his brow, feeling sweat roll down his wrist. He sat up properly and rubbed his eyes, trying to control his trembling. His sheets were tangled up in his legs and he'd kicked the book he'd been reading earlier that evening to the floor.

He was rather used to waking up in a state such as this, but not usually without the memory of what had woken him.

And Harry would have simply rolled back over and tried to go back to sleep, except he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

He reached out for his glasses on the bedside table. Putting them on did nothing but make fuzzy dimness a sharp dimness. He grabbed his wand and whispered, '_Lumos'_. A beam of light shot from the end and he shone it all around the room, into the corners, over the window sill, around the chest of drawers that still held some of Charlie's old clothes, his trunk by the door, the stool beside his bed… but there was nothing. The door was shut, no-one would have had time to sneak out, and he was sure he would have heard someone apparate. He could smell something familiar, a perfume he knew but couldn't place, but was sure it was just one of Mrs. Weasley's collection lingering from when she had straightened things up earlier.

Harry extinguished the light, lay back down, and placed his glasses back on the table, but sleep didn't come straight away. He lay awake for a long time, clutching his wand the feeling of eyes watching him never leaving him, even as he did eventually drift off into sleep once more.

* * *

Ginny was reading her Transfiguration book when a Harry-esque shape appeared in her peripheral vision.

She looked up. He was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, looking almost coy. He was scratching away the white paint from the door with his fingernail.

"Can I help you with something?' she asked, going back to her book. 'Or are you just going to stand there and destroy my bedroom."

"I've been thinking,'

"Oh yes?"

"Maybe I will get that Hungarian Horntail tattoo."

It took a moment for the meaning of these words to penetrate, but once they did they hit her like a runaway giant.

Ginny's head snapped up and she saw that he was smiling at her in that way.

And without a word, he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

* * *

The next evening, Ron only waited a moment after knocking on the door to Charlie's room before barging in while announcing, 'You and my sister better not be up to any tomfoolery in here!"

He'd only been half-joking. Ever since Harry and Ginny had gotten back together the night before, the Universe seemed to have decided that Ron was going to be the one to interrupt every intimate moment they seemed to have in every location in the house and garden. He was surprised they hadn't left the country yet. He was surprised he hadn't.

His relief that Harry was sitting on his bed alone in his room was fleeting when he saw the expression on Harry's face.

Ron didn't need to ask. He'd been expecting it all day.

He shut the door behind him and sat next to Harry without a word.

Harry didn't look up immediately. He was staring unfocused at the floor for a long moment. He finally blinked and clenched his jaw.

"Sorry,' he muttered.

Ron shrugged. 'S'all right."

"You think…' he paused, looking embarrassed to continue, but seem to realize it was Ron he was talking to, so he blurted, 'You think he'd be proud of me?'

"He was always proud of you.'

"Of us, rather.' Harry corrected himself, giving Ron a small smile. 'We did all this together."

Ron breathed in through his teeth. "Careful now, you're getting sentimental."

"Shut up."

"One day with a girlfriend and you're ready to write romance novels."

Harry smirked and punched Ron in the arm. Ron laughed and rubbed the spot tenderly.

"I don't know how you helped,' Harry continued after a moment,

"Harry, don't – '

"No, belt it for a moment,' Harry insisted. 'I know you did something. I don't know what it was yet, but I know it was huge. And I'm going to remember, and when I do I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to repay you."

Ron shifted awkwardly. "After all the crap we've been through, I think we can call it even."

He could tell Harry wasn't convinced.

"But,' Ron added, 'if you wanna do my chores for the next five years, feel free."

Harry smiled and stared off into space again.

Ron ruffled his hair. "You wanna be alone?"

"Actually, think you could go get Ginny? And Hermione? At the risk of sounding mushy I wouldn't mind if we all just… sat for a bit."

"Want some of that Muggle beer Dad got?

"Copious amounts, please."

"If there's any left,' Ron muttered, heading for the door. 'Your girlfriend is an alcoholic, I hope you're aware."

Ron rubbed his chest after he left the room, feeling emotional, but unsure about what in particular.

* * *

Hermione was sitting in the Burrow living room, writing in her journal on Wednesday morning.

It was a ritual she had taken upon herself to develop for Harry. Every day she wrote down what had happened, how things had been for everyone will all the memories when some of his still alluded him, in hopes that when he finally did recall everything she could give it to him, and he could read it and catch up on everything that had been happening behind the scenes, things that they had not been able to tell him right away, because it would have just brought on more questions and incited a never ending stream of confusion.

She had felt awful keeping things from him, basic things that he had had every right to know – things that were, after all, all about him. But he'd agreed to the discretion, albeit reluctantly, choosing to agree with her and Ron that maybe it was best to just let things unfold naturally and let him discover things himself, if they too agreed not to flaunt major details in his face.

It had almost been like pulling teeth, getting him to agree. Harry always wanted to know everything right as it happened. Ron had eventually convinced him that trying to fill in seven years of history in one night was quite impossible, and that knowing him he'd probably fudge up a lot of the facts anyway.

So here Hermione was, writing in the events of the day before, when the subject of her thoughts came into the living room, heading straight for her.

She put down her pen and smiled. "Did you try brushing your hair? It looks scruffier than usual."

Hermione knew he had remembered something major when his expression didn't change.

"What is it?'

"Where is she?' Harry asked.

Hermione only needed a moment to realize who he was talking about. It took everything she had not to sigh with relief.

She took her wand from across her lap and held it out for him. "She's at home."

Harry strode forward after a moment to process this information and was gone with a resounding 'crack'.

Hermione was on her feet a split second later, suddenly full of energy. She wanted to shout out to someone, but everyone was out. She wanted to apparate but she'd given Harry her wand. Despite this lack of communication, Hermione couldn't suppress the laugh that seemed to rise right up from her chest.

She grabbed her diary, crossed out the two sentences she had already jotted and wrote:

_Today you came back to us._

* * *

The first thing he eyes went to was his room; there was now a wall and a roof, closing it all in.

Everything was repaired. The windows had full panes of glass in them and were no longer cracked or broken. The front door was mended and painted a friendly deep green, no longer hanging on his hinges, half blown off. The roof was whole again, its brown tiles shining in the afternoon sunshine. The garden was filled with shrubs and flowers just beginning to bloom, the lawn was so well-trimmed it could rival uncle Vernon's.

It was like stepping back in time. It was as though nothing had ever happened.

Harry only hovered at the hedge for a moment. Four long strides, the gravel of the path crunching underfoot, and he was standing on the doorstep. His finger hovered over the doorbell as he wondered if he should ring. Would it be rude to simply just walk in like he owned the place?

_You _do_ own the place, stupid_, he thought.

Harry gripped the door handle and hesitated a moment before turning it and pushing the door inward.

The hallway wasn't covered with dust and dirt and spider webs. As Harry stepped further into the house he looked through into the living room. There were comfortable couches, a new television, and a coffee table with an empty mug sitting in a ring of spilt milk. There were pictures hanging from the walls with pictures of vaguely familiar people waving at him. The window was open, letting in a soft breeze and the scent of warm, summer air.

Music suddenly caught his attention, and he remembered why he was there. Gripping Hermione's wand tightly, Harry moved up the half, passing some closed doors containing rooms he was dying to look at. But he followed the music and pushed the swinging door inward a bit to reveal the kitchen.

She was standing at the sink, washing dishes. The window was open in here too, and the breeze was making her hair dance softly around her face. She was wearing a pair of black shorts and a yellow t-shirt. There was a small cd player on the bench amongst the dishes an enchanted tea towel was drying, playing a song Harry recognized from Aunt Petunia's old record collection. She was singing the words softly, her shoulders moving along with the beat.

He didn't know how to announce himself. He didn't know how to do anything. He didn't want to ruin the moment with stupid words coming out of his stupid mouth, but he wanted her to look at him more than anything…

She turned suddenly, aiming for the fridge. But she stopped short when she spotted him.

Harry wasn't sure how long they stood like that; him peering through the doorway and her standing in the middle of the kitchen, soapy water dripping from her fingers, creating a puddle around her on the tiles.

Her eyes were wide and green, green like the front door, seemingly taking in as much of him as he was taking in as much of her.

Figuring it was bad manners to linger in a doorway, he stepped into the room fully and pocketed Hermione's wand. He looked around, as if hoping the right words would come to him. But looking around at the refurbished house, the freshly painted walls and the comfortable furniture and the smell of summer and something else he couldn't name but knew from somewhere, all he could say was…

"I'm home."

Lily blinked out of her stupor and put her hands on her hips. "And what time do you call this?"

* * *

"I didn't do anything but the basics,'

Lily put her back against the closed door, as if trying to hide it from view.

Harry nodded. "That's fine."

"So don't be disappointed when you go in there."

"I lived in a cupboard for ten years, I'm sure I can deal with a few bare walls."

Lily pursed her lips, just like she always did when Harry brought up this little fact. But she didn't' remark this time; instead, she pushed the door open with her hip and stood aside.

Harry stepped inside and found that she wasn't lying – it really was the barest room in the whole house.

She'd taken him to every room, shown him every detail and talked him through almost every process she'd gone through to get the house ready.

No, ready for _him_, she'd put it.

"I realized we didn't really have any photos of the Weasleys, or Remus and Tonks, or anyone really, so I went a bit crazy taking pictures to hang." She'd explained, showing the photos on the walls. 'And I got this couch at a very reasonable price, a nice big three seater, because I know we need a shatload of seats for when all these friends of ours come over. And that coffee table is actually ours from way back; it was still here when I moved back in and I just had to restore it a li-… oh bollocks, darn coffee. James always made me use a coaster 'cause I would make such a bloody mess…"

She's shown him the new oven she'd bought, the table setting, the outdoor furniture for the patio, the sink fixtures in both the downstairs and upstairs bathrooms, the shower head and it's amazing water pressure, her bedroom and the new suite she'd purchased, the curtains in the guest bedroom, the carpets, the tiles, the hand railings for the staircase,… everything but his room. It was lucky last.

He could see why.

It was furnished with nothing but a queen sized bed and a desk under the large window. The walls were painted a light blue and the window was ajar in here too, letting the smell of freshly cut grass and sunshine fill the room. It was quite, and peaceful, and so much bigger now the trashed furniture had been removed and new carpet had been laid.

Lily squeezed in beside him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her wringing her hands anxiously.

"I like what you've done with the wall,' he said, gesturing. 'There actually is one now."

"I didn't finish it on purpose,' she said softly. 'I thought you might like to do it yourself. Pick out your own things, you know? I know you've never really had your own room, so I just thought… well…"

Harry smiled down at her. He patted her on the shoulder, but then that didn't seem like enough contact, so he put his arms around her, but then that didn't seem like enough either, so he squeezed her and pressed the side of his head against the top of hers. She was hugging him back just as tightly, his arms wrapped around his middle, and she was hurting his ribs a little but he didn't care. The longer he held her the more memories seemed to come back.

He finally let her go and she smiled up at him. "I missed you."

"Wish I could say the same, but I only just remembered you this arvo."

Lily laughed, took his hand and led him over to the bed. He sat at the foot of it while she sat at the head, both of them leaning against the wall, their legs drawn up to their knees.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you during this,' she said softly. 'I'm sorry none of us were, but we agreed it would probably have been better for you to come back to us when you were ready, and…"

"It's okay,' he cut her off gently. 'I was mad about it at the time, but I get it now. Everything that's happened to me isn't really something you can explain… not properly anyway. I understand why you stayed away."

"You remember everything?"

"This morning I woke up and I remembered you on my doorstep at Privet Drive. And I had the same reaction I did the first time."

"You stunned someone and tied them to a bed?"

"Okay, maybe not _exactly_ the same. It was like I was watching a movie. I closed myself and watched myself take you to Grimmauld Place, and then it went blank. I had to think about if I would have told anyone by now, because I remember at the time I'd resolved not to tell anyone. But I figured I would have at least told Ron and Hermione, so I asked her where you were. I remembered more things when I got here, and since I stepped in here they haven't really stopped."

Lily nodded. "The most recent things seemed to come back the quickest."

"Not quick enough,' Harry said bitterly.

"Where are you up to?

"We just broke the Pensieve out of the Museum.' Harry snorted. 'What were we thinking?"

"Excuse me, what were _you_ thinking? All your plans are ridiculous, did you know that?"

"I remember you coming up with a few key points during that planning meeting. And I wasn't the one who tripped the Prime Minister, thank you very much."

Lily smiled and rubbed his knee.

Harry frowned at her. She was being so calm about all of this. But, then again, he mused she had had the most time to get used to all of this, not to mention she'd lived through it all herself.

"So…' he started tentatively, 'we won, then."

"Peace and harmony among the lands,' Lily nodded. 'All because of you and your berk ideas."

Harry pursed his lips. "I don't remember exactly what happened yet, but I did something dumb, didn't I?"

"You can apologize when you remember."

"Not sure I want to."

He knew she was staring at him, but he pretended not to notice. He tried to work out how he was feeling. The past two months had felt like an eternity of waiting; waiting for memories to come back, waiting to feel complete – just waiting. But sitting here now in his house, in his bedroom – two things he'd spent countless nights dreaming about and wishing for but never though he could ever actually have – the past two months felt like nothing but a blip.

He had lost so much and so many, come from nothing, and now had loving friends, a beautiful girlfriend, and now a house and his mother. Was all this because of everything he had sacrificed? Was he somehow being rewarded?

Harry looked around his room again and smiled.

"Where did you go just now?' Lily asked.

"Doesn't matter,' Harry shrugged. 'I'm home now."

* * *

A/N – Sorry it's so short, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway after such a long hiatus. I hope to get the next chapter out to you ASAP. We're almost done!

Please review!


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